The Coaxing of the Shuckle
by Whimsical Acumen
Summary: The Ranger Tour: a traveling group of high school graduates dragged around the main regions, developing a better knowledge for who they are, and who it is they wish to become.
1. Ode to Mother

**I have been struck with inspiration, and am eager to try out this new method of writing where fellow writers and appreciators of written artwork may submit their own characters, and I may work my magic with them. Will I survive this new way of incorporating characters, or will I lose interest and disappoint possibly a great deal of readers.**

**I hope I am not inclined, and am quite eager for this writing piece.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

Mrs. Elizabeth Wickins strummed her fingers on the top of the kitchen counter. Her polished nails were not striking said counter because of boredom (though she did possess a smidgen of impatience) but because of withheld anger. She wanted to throttle the boy in front of her; Heaven forbid she loses her temper. Oh no, she was going to wait to hear his excuse, and there had better not only be an excellent reason for his ineptitude, but be a good portion of begging as well. She certainly wouldn't mind some more submissive behavior from her child. After all, it was under _her_ roof he was currently living under, not to mention her _womb_ he sprouted from.

With a swish of a very thick tail, a growlithe leaped into the air, snapped his head and snatched the steak she had been in the midst of chopping. Mother and son were frozen with surprise as the pokemon landed gracefully, and with smirking eyes, ran off with his prize. Once Elizabeth registered the loss of the family's dinner, she shrieked a vast number of unpleasant words that carried on in variety toward her son's aloof attitude and his unruly pokemon.

"Get some control over that mutt, would you? I was making _your _favorite dinner and now I'm ordering takeout, because I do not want to start from scratch again, and of course _you're _not going to cook." She snapped when she sensed a slight quirk of his mouth. It was gone once she aimed for closer inspection, but she had her suspicions. "I swear, ever since you've arrived back home you've been nothing but –" Cold. Absolutely cold. "Never mind. Not the point. The point is, is that I know I've told you a thousand times that I do not want you walking around in that _thong_ of yours."

He looked down at the white skimpy cloth that she was referring to. He cocked his head, eyeing himself, then looked up. "Speedo." He corrected.

"Oh, a _Speedo, _forgive me." She all but snarled. Couldn't he at least have some shame to be caught in such attire by his _mother?_ None of the other boys his age from the area would dare to be caught in such clothing, yet here was her son, acting like a peacock in all his glory. She blamed the modeling school; _they _corrupted his mind.

The only reason she had agreed to let him go to Sinnoh was because she thought it would be a great learning experience. He'd be out on his own in Hearthrome City, studying the pokemon in the varying towns. She figured Davion would be learning how to adapt to his surroundings and manage on his own. He would also be strengthening his modeling career, preparing him for a future. The issue was that every vacation that he was let out of school, his already quiet self seemed to become all the more voiceless. Conversations with him were minimal to the point where she wondered if he had lost his voice. It wasn't that he was shy, it was that he gave the aura of not caring enough to offer up enough words to share. He certainly was not the snobbish type – that was for sure. And then he would respond with that obnoxious–

"Yeah, whatever."

She huffed. "Davion, go get the remains of the steak and clean up after that animal." He shrugged and then pushed himself off the wall, strolling away with a posture she vaguely wished she could recreate.

She was a proud mother, she had to admit. Even when the girls were piling at her door, and the number of male friends the boy possessed was low in numbers, she could not help but smile. Call her shallow, but she took pride in her handsome son. The eighteen year old stood out even at his modeling school, the population mostly filled with anorexic girls with Botox lips. A few sickly boys here or there, but no, her son was a beauty.

And oh how he knew it.

Always he would have one girl or another on an arm or two. Despite her lectures and chastising, he never stayed with one long, and she was positive that two-timing was not above him in his mind. She had originally hoped, after seeing the campus, the prestige of the school would whip him into shape, but no, it only enhanced his ego. Which she was proud he had, much better than a sniveling boy with a low self-esteem. She wouldn't want to have an unhappy son.

But she couldn't even tell if he was happy or unhappy anymore. He was simply uncaring. He would just stand off to the side, muscled arms folded across his broad chest, legs crossed defiantly as he propped his weight against whatever wall he claimed as his temporary property. His dark brown eyes would stare without curiosity, without malice, without wonder, just staring. A flutter of dark lashes hinting at a blink with a slight toss of his dark blond hair was the only reassurance she had that he was still alive.

That, and the instances when he would come to life with some blonde bimbo suctioned to his lips, squealing in delight that her son could even considered them as a girlfriend. Which rarely happened, he'd lose interest quickly. Or at least that's what Elizabeth assumed. What she hoped was that he saw that the girls were dumb whores, and that he shouldn't be wasting his time with them, and should find himself a more proper girl. Then he'd appear with a new, equally dumb girl, and she'd wonder some more.

Quite possibly their decision to allow him to go off to modeling school had been a mistake; they should have sent him off to a normal private high school. But he had wanted to explore the possibility, and even though his choice was a bit different, who was she to deny his dreams? She loved her son, and as worrisome his current personality was, academically he was sound.

The glass door that Davion had exited from slid open once again. Somehow in the short time that he had gone outside, his hair had been mussed with twigs so that bangs that normally hung in his eyes were in disarray. His knees were slightly scraped and his chest was covered in something sticky. The damn growlithe was munching on the remains of the steak, and oddly enough, her glameow, Mewsette, was in his other arm, licking a paw of hers. Her son appeared to have stepped off of a photo shoot for Poke-Fancy. What was wrong with him?

He dropped the pokemon unceremoniously, shutting the door behind him. He then brushed himself off, twitching his nose slightly at the mysterious sticky substance on himself. The glameow immediately ran over to Elizabeth, while the growlithe trotted back to his rightful trainer, looking awfully smug.

"Mom," she looked to her son. Was this an apology for his misbehaving pokemon? "Ginji was humping Mewsette again." She shrieked, scooping up her precious glameow. She didn't know what bothered her more: the fact that the pokemon seemed to be determined to make kittens, or that her son so blatantly explained the scenario.

"Davion, so help me, one more time and we are _neutering_ that animal." Her son blinked several times at that comment. Slightly disturbed. "And while we're on the topic, put some pants on!" He looked down, then back at her. "Speedo bathing suits don't count as clothing. I don't care what they let you get away with, I want you _covered_."

Oh, and there is the rolling of the eyes. He sighed heavily, and once again left the room, hopefully to his room to get more appropriate pants. The damn growlithe trotted after him with a wagging tail.

"Whatever."

"And if you can't find any pants, don't get into your suitcase; just borrow something from your father!" She advised as an afterthought.

Her mood dropped at the mentioning of his suitcase. He was going to be leaving again. Evan, her husband, was going to be sending the boy over to the year long trip. An exploration across the four regions, team-building based, where bonds would be made, character built, and a pokemon or two added to the team. Students would learn life lessons on living in the outside world where they would be living off of their own accumulating skills. It would be life changing, and it would be a great opportunity for teens to take. That was roughly what the advertisements had promised.

But a whole year after the previous four he spent away: she was really going to miss him.

Mewsette mewed at her owner curiously. Elizabeth shook her head. No, her son was going to be fine. No matter how much she missed him. He was going to learn, he was going to prosper, and he may even bring home a nice girl. Or two. She scowled at the knowing notion.

She bent over to place the glameow on the polished floor. She then stood her full height, accenting her heels, and then made her way to the phone. She felt like having Italian.

**PM me with your character. I won't accept them as a review. And do try to be realistic about them. Thank you.**

**Name:**

**Age: (17-20)**

**Gender:**

**Appearance: Please give as detailed description as possible, but be realistic. If they have purple hair, it certainly is not natural. And the only way you can have red eyes is if you are albino or are wearing contacts. And do keep in mind albino is pretty friggin' rare.**

**Family: fyi, this is more game/manga-verse, so there will be no relations with anime characters, thank you.**

**Personality: There is no such thing as too much personality. However, I will not be happy with someone who is of the Mary-Sue genre.**

**History: Don't emo out on me. Keep it realistic.**

**From: town/area (give ideas for pokemon variety)**

**Pokemon: Four pokemon max, though you can have some in storage. No legendary pokemon. If you have a shiny pokemon, it is your /only/ pokemon. Same goes with eevee and any eevee evolutions. You cannot have a shiny eevee evolution. Please have descriptions of gender and whatnot.**

**Other: Any extra tidbits you'd like to share?**

**Davion: Reaction/feelings toward him. Even if you haven't met him, hypothesize how character would first react toward meeting him.**


	2. Mile High Club

**Man this was fun to write. I'm on such a creative high I love it. Though I am vaguely wondering if I should change the rating to M instead. Not planning on having full-on smut, but …**

**A couple OCs appear in this chapter, I hope I have shown them well. Was focusing a good portion on given bios. Ah, just tell me what you think.**

Davion slouched in the seat that his ticket had directed him to. Seat B-12, an aisle seat. He stretched his arms out above him, arching his back slightly as he yawned. He then collapsed into his normal suave posture as if he had never executed the action. The blond blinked several times, sniffed, and then reached into his carry-on bag. He resurfaced with an iPod and headphones.

Laura Anderson, a flight attendant, had been watching him. She had been with many people in her travels, but never had she seen such magnificence with so much confidence before. The blond's hair was not long, but somehow he wore it as a mane, occasionally tossing his head to one side to get rid of the styled bangs in his eyes. That was one of the first shockers to her; his hair appeared to have actually seen a comb before. A rare thing in males from the West.

She wondered if he was a movie star, or some sort of celebrity she happened to have not heard of. The brunette would have expected she'd remember his face if she were to ever see it in a movie, but maybe he had one of those faces that stood out all the more in person.

What she was hesitant to sum up was his area of location. His apparent tan and muscled arms would make her assume he was from some warm, perhaps a beach of some sort. She could easily imagine him strutting about white hot sand with a surfboard under one arm. Perhaps a cool pokemon like an houndoom or arcanine running at his feet, or maybe something really sweet like an altaria perched on one shoulder. Then she would take note of his clothes, and wonder something else all together. His white sweater was cropped to reveal his stomach, the sleeves shortened to present his lower arms. Even scrunched in his sitting position in the crowded seating on the plane, she could see he was well endowed, but did he really have to wear such a flaunting top? She squinted and realized that he was awfully leggy, and that his shorts were curiously short.

She was reminded of David Bowie for some reason.

If he was going to be wearing such light clothing, he must be accustomed to the weather in Cerulean City. The water front was awfully chilly there, and the area was on a very high latitude. There were only two types of people that would be wearing light clothing when traveling to such a cold destination: people from the area, or from a similar climate, that are used to the slight chill of the Northern winds, or someone who is from the Southern islands who has not traveled much, and therefore does not appreciate just how severely cold it can get.

The mystery passenger turned his head and stared straight at her. She gasped slightly, caught off guard by his sudden attention, as well as from his sculpted face, and vaguely wondered if he could sense that she had been ogling him for the past five minutes.

"Oooh, Laura, I think that _man _in the twelfth row was checking me out!" She jumped slightly at the sudden presence of Camille, the elder of the two flight attendants. Laura's eyes flickered between her companion and the male; he was looking away now.

"O-oh, was he?" Was she referring to his sudden attention to their general direction, or during an earlier time when he was first being seated? From the way the woman was twittering on her feet, she would assume the latter.

"Mmhm, _definitely. _I tell ya, it's been a while since I've seen such a _fine _selection of man on a plane. I mean, Dave is cute and all that, but _this _one takes the cake." Laura was playfully nudged by Camille who had turned on her heel to exit the plane. "Come on, we can check him out later; we have make way for the rest of the boarding passengers."

Laura spared another glance at the boy, then followed her coworker to the front of the plane. The two spent about ten minutes of greeting and ushering more passengers on to the plane. As people from different areas continued to board, most purposely keeping their attention on seat numbers, she was noting their appearances. Most of the men were much older, in business suits or vests, with a slight gut to the stomach. Women were heavier with loose-fitting clothing and a child or two attached to their sleeves. Several teenagers climbed on board as well, but none held her attention like the original blond that had boarded before.

She stood off to the side as Camille and Darrel, an older flight attendant, demonstrated the proper procedure for putting on a breathing mask. The two animatedly mimed gagging from lack of oxygen before the comfort of the nonexistent air entered their system. They showed their "relief" toward being able to breathe again. A few of the passengers began clapping playfully, starting up the rest of the plane as well (albeit most were not sure why they were clapping), and the two workers lapped up the attention. The captain then began to instruct further directions of putting away carry-on items.

Laura took her cue to begin checking the overhead compartments, tapping them with her hand, whilst checking the passengers to make sure they were securely buckled. She hated having to remind grown men and women to ensure their safety, especially when they would give her a scathing glare. She knew that they were just embarrassed, but it was not as if she was reminding them for her own health. It was for their safety!

She then came to an abrupt halt when she realized she was right next to the blond boy. His head was bowed slightly, headset still on. The heavy man next to him seemed disgruntled by his presence from the way he attempted in vain to lean away from the boy. She shook her head. There was no way with the small space the larger man was going to gain much distance. The plane wasn't that big.

She took a deep breathe before tentatively poking the boy. She had been expecting him to snap his head at her and glare, but his reaction was much more slow, much more calculated. His upper back seemed to roll into place as all the segments of his spine hooked into proper formation. In one movement, he cocked his head toward her, eyes wide with curiosity, and used a hand to hold one headphone away from his ear. He seemed to be looking at her expectantly.

"Oh," she gasped then giggled nervously. She had forgotten for a moment she had a purpose besides intruding on his alone time. "I-I'm sorry." Where was this stuttering coming from? She never stuttered! "But you have to turn off your electronics right now, you can wait until the Captain says it's okay to turn it back on."

Laura was further surprised when he completed the action without his eyes ever leaving hers. The process of taking the headphones off of his head, putting them back in his bag, sitting back up again, the whole time he kept looking at her. She had always assumed blue or green eyes were the most captivating of eye colors, but his musky brown seemed to be searching every fiber of her being. He continued to eye her, and she couldn't help but stare back. She hoped her cheeks were not turning red. She did kind of wish he'd say something, though.

"Laura," Camille's voice whisked her from her own little world. "I'm done with the right aisle, would you get a move on?" Some passengers grumbled for added emphasis. Completely unneeded. The brunette was already embarrassed, realizing her total lack of professionalism. She was on the job! And the poor boy was probably waiting for her to leave him alone so he could get back to his music! He wasn't interested!

She hurriedly finished checking in with the rest of her aisle, mentally berating herself all the way. It didn't help matters when she met up with Camille and Darrel, both wearing knowing smirks.

"I see I'm not the _only _one who's been checkin' out Mister _Wickins._" Camille chortled. "I'd recommend being a bit more discreet about having an interest, but hey, we all have our flirting techniques."

"Or lack thereof." Darrel snickered for added effect.

"Shut up, guys." Laura muttered, unfolding her seat for takeoff. She paused for a moment, then continued to situate herself. "And what did you say his name was? 'Wicker'?"

"_Wickins._" Camille corrected, shaking her head heavily. "And it's only a guess. An educated guess, but a guess nonetheless." She paused. "Oh, that rhymed." Darrel offered a vague high five.

"How'd you come to that conclusion?" Laura was not going to bother hiding interest at that point.

"While you were checking him out – when he leaned forward – I noticed that on the back of his jacket, 'Wickins' was spelled out. Over the '00'." Camille jerked her head while helping Darrel buckle himself. "I'm assuming he was on a sports team or something. That's his last name."

"And there is no person in any big league with the last name of 'Wickins'," Darrel added before Laura could question the obvious. "_I_ of all people would know." The two women shrugged at that claim. He certainly _was _a sports fanatic.

"He could be a swimmer," Camille cocked her head, presumably to see the Wickins boy in question. "That'd be one reason for the shaved legs."

Laura guffawed while Darrel rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I could see it. Especially with _that _build. Good shoulders, strong legs, plus with that attire – I bet you're right." Darrel grinned at his own analysis. The plane rattled slightly as it made its turn, preparing for the runway. The three had gone through enough drills and takeoffs to last them a life time; they were not fazed by their Captain's overhead directions for the passengers. It was nothing new, so they talked over him.

"I think he's an actor." Laura murmured. The two looked at her in surprise, then toward the passenger. "With a face like that, I mean. Plus he has this air about him, you know?" The two shrugged, but didn't deny it. Both liked their own assumptions on the boy, and liked the idea of being correct.

"Or a big shot trainer, blah blah blah, let's change the subject already." Darrel grumbled. If he knew those two girls, the topic was soon going to turn toward the boy's nether regions and just what they would like to do with him. Darrel could calmly and assuredly say that he was uninterested.

The two girls pouted. They weren't finished talking about the mystery man. "You're just jealous girls don't fawn over ya," Camille rolled her eyes. "If ya don't want to hear, then don't listen. I haven't had a good _lay _since my boyfriend traveled over to Sinnoh. Ya know how this airline don't travel over there. I'm _lonely._" She said playfully, but truthfully. Her two companions sighed with understanding.

"You're going to see Rayman in a couple of weeks. You know how time flies by when we're traveling between Johto and Kanto." Laura said softly. Darrel gave a slight nod in agreement. He had wanted a topic change, admittedly, but hearing about Camille's woes was almost worse. He'd rather hear about their libido levels.

Camille leaned over, placing a hand on Laura's knee. "Thanks, I appreciate the thought." She then reclined back into her seat with a frustrated groan. "I'm just horny, that's all." Laura chuckled. Darrel mentally corrected himself: hearing about their libido levels was never the better option. No matter the circumstance.

The three continued on the scattered topic: Camille wanting to sex it up, Laura still embarrassed over her previous actions, and Darrel sorry he didn't hitch a seat on the other end of the plane. It was when the Captain announced that the seatbelt sign was off, and people were aloud to move about the plane, that the three stood up from their seats and began to go about completing assigned tasks. Camille and Darrel were to run the different carts up and down the two aisles, providing little meals and drinks for the passengers. Laura was tagging along with Darrel, who was too short to reach the other side of the cart, handing poured drinks to different people. She took careful note that the cart she was working on was not going to pass the Wickins boy, a plan that she executed purposely; she didn't want to embarrass herself again, screw professionalism!

Despite her determination to lose her sudden fascination and obvious attraction, her eyes kept wandering to seat B-12. Most of the time he would seem to be asleep, head lolled away from the aisle with head phones perched on head, iPod in clenched hands. She had the impression that the music was a bit loud, due to the silent complaints of the man seated next to him. She couldn't help but smile to herself at the man's misfortune of being stuck with a painfully better looking man and being disturbed by the same man.

She was also surprised at the times when the Wickins boy's gaze seemed to be fixed on her. She wondered if she was just being vane and silly and getting her hopes up, but then he would be there, staring straight at her with a strange, emotionless expression. But it wasn't completely emotionless, the real issue was that he was impossible to read. He just continued to watch her, and her anxiety and self-consciousness continued to grow evolving from the bud of a bulbasaur to a venusaur flower in full bloom.

"Feel as ridiculous as a skitty." She muttered.

Darrel twitched slightly at her comment, but said nothing, focusing in on the orders of the family in row 23. She offered up the several cokes, waters and juice bottle that was ordered, and then helped Darrel clean up the cart.

"Alright, we have about twenty minutes before we should begin making trash rounds." Darrel announced as she slid the cart back into its slot. She gave a slight nod, then bowed her head slightly.

"Um, is it okay if I head over to the bathroom – ?"

"Yes, yes, yes." Darrel waved her off. "Certainly don't need _my _permission."

She nodded before scampering off to the other side of the plane where the slightly better bathroom was. She used to find it horribly disgusting to use, and would try to contain herself for landing, but after three years, she had found that air port restrooms were much worse than the airplane ones. Especially since she knew who was cleaning the plane and just how often it was cleaned, whereas the airport is a worrisome mystery. It is different from port to port.

She locked the door, checking her appearance before doing her business. She wanted to look presentable to the Wickins boy, even if there was nothing going to be started between the two of them. Business was business, and these people were her customers. Wasn't it poor etiquette to have an interest in someone you are working for? It was common knowledge that dating people you work with is a no-no; why should it be any different for people who you're only going to know for six hours? Laura considered passengers, for these reasons, to be people to stay away from.

Yet the moment that she finished washing her hands and unlocked the door, she pushed the thoughts away. The door was pushed in instantly after she unlocked the door, and she had to jump back to keep from being banged into. She was completely bewildered by the sudden intrusion. Was someone really that eager to use the restroom? They could stand to wait a moment or so. She was getting out.

Then a sandal made its way into the tiny compartment, followed by shaved legs with accented shorts and a cropped sweater. She stood frozen as the Wickins boy closed the door behind him and locked it, pushing himself very close to her from the lack of space. His high cheek bones, his pink lips, his perked nose, all of his handsome features were all the more striking up close. Or perhaps because the situation was simply more sexual than she had experienced in a while.

He then leaned forward and gently placed a kiss on her neck. She jumped away, a tiny 'peep' uttered as she continued to stare at him with wide eyes. He blinked several times, perhaps taken back by her response. He then leaned back, pressing a leg against hers. She spared a glance at her stockings and tried to recall if she had shaved recently.

"U-um … what are you doing?" She asked timidly. It wasn't that silly of a question. She was minding her own business, doing her own business, when out of nowhere this guy steps in and puts them in this very awkward situation. She certainly was not in the mood for some crazy rape scenario, and she really had a schedule to keep to. Yet he was looking at her like she was a moron.

He looked down at himself, then at her, the slightest twitch of an eyebrow that said 'what do you _think _I'm doing?'

"Seriously, I have a job to do, and this really isn't the place." He leaned forward, placing another kiss on her neck, a little higher. She never knew she could get so many goose bumps while feeling so sweaty. She had previously been under the impression that goose bumps only occured when a person was cold or really nervous. She was nervous, of course, but that wasn't why she reacted so well. "Ah … um… I'm a stewardess, you know." Another kiss, on the other side, with a bit more pressure. Mm, he smelled nice and musky. "Are you, what's your name?"

He broke away from her, and it was then that she realized he had had her in an embrace. "Hn, Davion." He applied more kisses, and she shuddered.

"Well, um, _Davion._" Did she just coo? Man when _was_ the last time she had a boyfriend? She couldn't really count. She was too confused with her current company. "Are you sure you're - ?" She wasn't sure what she was trying to ask. She didn't want him to stop, but the whole scene felt too weird. And his movements were oddly sweet and controlled.

"Allergies?" He brought her out of her thoughts. Allergies? He was talking about allergies? Why on earth would that be an issue?

"Um, no…?"

He continued his physical affection while fiddling with some object in his sweater pocket. She blinked several times (a contact had gotten out of place) before realizing he was holding a condom. Oh. So he wanted to have sex. She wasn't sure why this was such a surprise to her. She placed her hands on his shoulders, holding him back slightly. He stopped, a slight look of impatience, but he understood her hesitance. It appeared he wasn't interested in a rape scenario, either.

She sighed, trying to tame the flutter of butterfree in her stomach. Was she in the mood for sex? Well she certainly was at that point. And she had never had sex with such a good looking guy before, especially one so interested in her. Plus, he didn't _look_ like he was carrying any STDs, and even then, he did provide a condom…

"Oh, alright." She muttered. His eyes lit up and he launched himself on her, lips first, body second.

Goal: met.

Just joined the 'Mile High Club'.

* * *

Davion arrived at Cerulean City a happy man. Even with all of the weird looks he was receiving, due to his misplaced attire. He was feeling hotter than ever, multiple meanings intended. The stewardess had been checking him out the entire plane ride, and was not a bad looker. Not a screamer, either. He adjusted his duffle bag, and scanned the waiting area.

Most of the passengers were headed off at a speedy pace toward the checkout area to reclaim their bags. Davion stood numbly for a moment. He had been told that he was going to be picked up by someone in the program, but he saw no one in the crowd. He may have to go down to the baggage claim, but the waiting area could also take place the current lobby he stood in. He peered around some more, then found something of intrigue. It took him a moment to process, but a large sign with 'The Ranger Tour' was strung up over some seats. Sitting in the area was a collection of bags, his included. He wasn't going to have to go searching for his at the baggage claim. Cool. Sitting around the bags were three teenagers. He strutted up to them, hands in his tiny pockets.

Two of the three took note of him walking toward them, and after a moment, gave some hesitant waves. Two males and a female. His eyes pinpointed on a possible target. The girl was really thin, not big-chested, leggy – long-limbed to be precise. Not bad. Short white hair that was cropped a little oddly. Her face seemed smaller with her long side-swept bangs. She was smiling as she lowered he hand in greeting.

He took note of the boy next to her, arms folded across chest, eyes glaring heatedly. Despite being awfully thin, his presence was large. His coloring was identical to the girl seated next to him. In his hands were a couple of pokeballs. Davion blinked several times, then walked up to the trio, the grumpy one in particular. Davion leaned toward the annoyed male who jerked back when the blond got close to his face. The boy had red eyes.

"What the hell's your problem?" The guy raged. Davion blinked again, and then sat back in his seat across from them, next to the third boy in the party. "Oy, I'm talking to you, dickwad!" Davion's headphones that had been slung around his neck were being repositioned over his ears. The guy was loud.

"Hain, calm down." The girl smiled at the white-haired boy with a crooked smile. She then turned to Davion who was fiddling with his iPod. The white hair boy was grumbling obscenities, but in greater control than a few seconds ago.

"So, you're on the Ranger Tour, right?" The boy next to him had a slight smile, much friendlier than the other boy (albeit, not a very fair comparison). He must have traveled from a farther region, since his slight facial hair needed a shave. Davion's eyes flickered to him, then turned back to his iPod. "Okay, well, I'm Shawn Libman." Shawn's blue eyes brightened behind his waterfall of black hair. He held out a hand expectantly. Davion reached over and shook it dutifully.

"Davion Wickins."

"I'm Friday Einsturzen," the girl angled herself toward the two. "This is my brother, Hain." The albino boy grunted at his identification. Davion eyed Hain with a blank expression. Hain glared back in response, continuing to fiddle with the pokeballs in his hands.

Hain broke off from their staring contest, muttering to Friday about letting his pokemon out already.

"Hey," Davion produced a little sigh, and finally took the headphones off. He wasn't going to be listening to any music. "Do you have, uh, heavier clothes? It's -1 degrees Celsius out." Shawn said awkwardly. A little weird to have to ask a person about their clothing choice. Particularly between two males.

Davion shrugged. "Hn, whatever." Ever since his active plane ride, he hasn't been all that cold. He dug into his bag and fished out a heavier, long-sleeved hoodie. Without a second glance he stripped his original 'sweater', shoved it into the bag (ignorant or just plain ignoring the open staring at his naked torso), and pulled the hoodie on. He readjusted his headphones and reached into his jacket pocket for a stick of gum.

"Is he some sort of manwhore?" Hain asked his sister with slight disbelief. The girl snorted at his comment while trying to appear appalled. Shawn shook his head, unsure how to respond to that comment.

Davion snapped his gum. His hands were in his pockets, and without the others realizing, he had his headphones out again.

"Friday," Hain muttered, slumping further in his chair. He wanted to let his pokemon out, and he wanted to get out of the boring airport. "When is it that we're supposed to be picked up?" She furrowed her brows and began rifling through her bags.

"Uh, give me a moment. In here somewhere…"

"We have a half hour or so." The two siblings looked up at Shawn who already had some papers out, directions from the company. In his other hand was a thick book. "Probably longer since some of the flights are running late cause some idiot trainers were doing some aerial fighting." Hain regarded the raven haired teen in front of him.

"Seriously?" His attention was back on his sister. "Well this sucks ass."

The four retreated to their own interests: the two siblings talking amongst themselves, Shawn's nose in a book, and Davion half asleep, listening to his music. The four pretty calm until a voice called out, sounding past even Davion's headphones.

"Davion?"

His eyes snapped open at the sound of his name. He lowered himself in his seat and lifted up his hoodie. The other three followed the source to a woman dressed in a short denim skirt, vest, and white blouse. The name tag and tie indicated she was a stewardess of some sort. Her long brown hair was wavy, if a bit messy, and she was looking about wildly. She was squinting at them, as if she had seen a ghost flitting about in their direction.

The blond glided over to Friday, snuck a glance out of the corner of his eye, and then turned back to the suspicious girl. She was inclined away from him slightly, not liking his intense stare. He was too close for her liking. Hain seemed to be of similar mind, glaring at the boy, daring him to make a move. Davion reached over, grasping her opposite armrest. She was pressed up tightly to the back of her chair.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

"Hit me once she's gone." He told her seriously.

"Huh?"

He easefully closed the distance between the two of them, mentally congratulating himself on his stealth. The Shawn boy was smart to have him change sweatshirts; the brunette chick wouldn't be able to recognize him if he played his cards right. Not to mention he was having at his second girl for the day. Petite was a fun type. Soft kisses here and there, no necessary full-blown make out. Not bad at all, certainly better than the previous girl. Rusty.

He grinned into her. No way her punch was gonna hurt from the response he was getting.

Cold air surrounded him. His hood had been yanked off his head. He cocked his head to see the stewardess had left. Awesome. Off the hook. She was going to go back on the plane, probably was already on. She'd be miles away in a matter of minutes, never to be seen again. He eased himself off of the pale girl. A tinge of pink on her otherwise unreadable face. The slightest of smirks grazed him. Her expression of surprise dropped to a scowl. He sighed and squared his shoulders, preparing for the other end of the deal.

Hain slugged him in the jaw.

**Fayth in the Music thanks for the correction. Appreciate that.**

**Hain and Friday – Happy2BeMe**

**Shawn – Jack Krieg and James Crusade**

**Still accepting OCs. If yours hasn't appeared yet, don't worry, it just wasn't needed for this chapter. Also, if someone has a ranger they would like to put in as an OC, that'd be awesome. Just use the OC guide on the previous chapter for details.**


	3. Didn't Want You to Hit Me

**I give you the third chapter. Had actually started on this on Sunday, but was then in a slight stump, waiting for a ranger character and whatnot. And then I had a test. Blah blah blah. It's here now, and though I do prefer the previous chapter, I do like this one. It is necessary, and is not too filler-ish. **

The waiting room was surprisingly quiet. If Shawn were to imagine one, there would be a great deal of panic. Crying children would be abundant, perhaps because they were missing a favorite television program, or a pokedoll had been taken from them, or maybe the excruciating pain of having a noodle shoved up their nose would be too much for the young ones to bear. Elderly people would be present, obviously, since their bodies were decaying a quicker rate than they would like, and cannot sit through the ache of arthritis, and other similar diseases. And then, for added effect, there would be that random person who has some ailment, some injury that was _so _ridiculous and obscene, that the entire staff of nurses and interns would have their eyes on the patient, sniggering behind closed doors.

Instead, the waiting room was filled with only one other couple that he did not know; an older couple who was intent on reading some cooking magazine. It appeared to him that the reading material of the room was intended for older audiences, considering that neither he, nor Friday seemed to be able to pick up a book. The two were flipping through reading material earlier, and neither seemed capable of finding something they liked.

Actually, he mentally corrected himself. Friday was reading a gossip magazine earlier, but I guess there are only so many times you can go through one. He wouldn't know, nor was he curious enough to try.

The albino girl was tapping her index finger against the arm of her chair impatiently. The little rhythms she'd start were arbitrary and would suddenly cut off to some other unnamed tune. He found his mood somersaulting from annoyed to intrigue to impatience. From the occasional glances from the couple strategically seated as far from the duo as possible, he could easily guess they didn't particularly care for her sound production.

He rolled his eyes and groaned, leaning his head against the white wall. He knew it was rather cliché, but he found himself wishing for more color in the hospital room. It was way too dull. There weren't even any kiddy toys to fiddle about with. He was bored.

A sudden growl caught his attention. Friday was rubbing her forehead.

He wondered what was wrong, but dared not ask. Ever since they had arrived, she had been deep in thought. He felt that it would be unsafe to intrude on the inner workings of her mind. Shawn stroked his chin, playing with the feel of his facial hair. He wondered what it felt like to have a bare chin. It had been a while since he had shaved his face fully.

Ah, but if he were to correct the current status of his facial hair, he would require a razor, which he currently lacked. A pokemon who worked for the organization was sent over to collect their luggage to their hotel. They had _nothing_ with them at the moment. Not even their pokemon (apparently the hotel did not allow for any pokemon who were not hired labor, so their partners would be staying at a little day care). He felt weird not having the familiar weight in his jacket pocket. His delibird was not going to like being away; little guy was just a baby. Maybe his zangoose would look after it…

"What kind of idiot breaks their hand on someone's _jaw?_" Friday grumbled. Shawn's eyes flickered to her, unsure if her question was rhetorical. "I mean, _he_ clearly has … muscles, but it was his jaw for crying out loud …" She rolled her head. Apparently whatever stupor she had been in had passed, for she was now talking.

"Someone with a marked propensity for getting into trouble?" Shawn offered.

Friday blinked several times, and then allowed a laugh. "You have _no _idea how appropriate that statement is." He shrugged with an impish grin. Perhaps his boredom would no longer be a main feeling.

"Considering the way he threw himself on to … Davion," he had forgotten the blond's name for a second. "I'd say that I have a pretty good idea." Shawn challenged.

Friday raised a brow, debating if she would take the bait. If there was bait. She wasn't really sure what was what ever since _Sir-Kiss-a-Lot_ launched himself on to her. She concluded some storytelling wouldn't hurt.

"Doubtful." She leaned back in her chair, folding one over the other with her hands clasped. Shawn adjusted his seat as well, a lazy but somewhat curious expression adorning his face. "He has gotten into fights with much more dangerous characters."

"More dangerous than male strippers?" He asked dryly.

She smirked. "Well, to say they were _more _dangerous would be pushing it. Male strippers are in a dangerous league of their own. No, I'm talking about taking on ice cream men at the age of five." Whatever Shawn had been expecting her to say, it was not that. "You see, when we were younger, we lived in Saffron City." Shawn chuckled knowingly. "Yeah you know what I'm talking about – eccentric people who are convinced they're psychics are all over the city. Trust me, I know _way _more people of that genre than I'd like to."

"I can imagine."

"Yeah, so _anyways,_ we're both five, being twins and all, and on every – I think it was on every – Tuesday we would go out and buy ice cream. Normally we'd just go down to the shop, but on this particular Tuesday – I'm beginning to think it was a Wednesday, though – the ice cream truck was trolling along pretty early. Hain thought it'd be cool to make a change and get popsicles that were pokemon-shaped. So we chased after it, for about a block or so, and then _finally_ it came to a halt."

"And what, they didn't have his favorite ice cream?" Shawn asked.

"No, no, let me finish." Friday rolled her eyes. She felt inclined to whack him for interrupting her so much. "So we chased after the truck, but since we were like, friggin' tiny, by the time we got there, the whole truck was packed with a sea of kids. High schoolers even, which meant that we really had competition. Thanks to our…" She gestured to herself. "Looks, and cute factor, we were able to squeeze our way through the crowd to make our orders. Now, this ice cream truck guy, he saw us sneaking in, and for one reason or another, found it necessary to discipline us for cutting through, because _five year olds_ aught to _know better._"

Shawn inclined himself away from Friday slightly. He was sensing some old animosity that had never been cleared up.

"But see, he wasn't the sort to just request for us to leave and all that, oh no, he was the kind to go and act all _natural, _smiling at us with a toothy grin, taking our _money_ and getting our ice cream cones. He then went and proceeded to hold out some fairly melted ice cream and dropped it in our hair. He said it was to _cool down_ our self-serving _hot heads. _The _ass._" Her hands were clenched. The couple was no longer reading their magazine, but glancing up at her with wary expressions. They also seemed interested in the tale.

"So … what did your brother do?"

She paused, her eyelids fluttering several times as she realized why she was originally telling the story. "Oh, we jumped on to the truck and started clawing at the guy with tooth and nail." She grinned. "He had to get stitches after, _and _our case held up in court."

Shawn furrowed his brows. "…What case?" Harassment? Failure to meet the needs of the customer. Perhaps child abuse? He tried to recall the details of child abuse laws concerning non-family members.

"Pedophilia, obviously."

From her smug expression, he assumed that who ever had been representing them was either told an interestingly different story or flat out lied to the court. As far as he could tell, there was nothing sexual in anything she had previously described.

"Ah." Cause there was no other response that he could come up with.

The two were seated in awkward silence. Neither could come up with a continuing topic starter, and opted for strained silence. Shawn mentally played out different ways he could have proceeded with a conversation, never acting, since no solution seemed to qualify (and by the time he did come up with a good response, a good five minutes had past). Friday was left to her thoughts once again, and a shroud of mystery hung over her.

Shawn slumped in his chair, mussing with his bangs. How long did it take for two guys to get patched up after a little brawl, anyways?

* * *

A female furret yawned widely before outstretching her paws and then her hind legs. Her eyes fluttered sleepily, uttering another yawn, before sniffing at her trainer. Lyra felt the shivers of a yawn coming on, and half heartedly tried to fight it. She offered an annoyed look at her pokemon. She leaned against the large pokemon, sleepy from the flight over. Her state of impatience had come and gone: she was now sleepy, and enjoying her moment of peace.

She twirled a dyed blue streak in her hair. Her hair was coming undone. She took off her glasses, purposely setting them to her side, and then shook out her pony tail. She ran her hands through her thick, wavy brown hair, using her fingers as a brush. She then pulled her hair back once again into a low ponytail. She felt for her glasses, her furret nudged them to her, and she took the item gladly. Lyra vaguely patted the pokemon in thanks.

She had been looking for the ranger assigned to pick up those from the Hoenn region, but apparently there were flight delays going about, so the sky traffic was out of whack. She had no idea where the ranger originated from, but she assumed that the ranger was on one of those flights. Or was stuck in traffic. Or had gotten lost. Or had simply forgotten about his or her duties.

Lyra sighed heavily, rolling her head to one side. She couldn't find her luggage, either. She had been frantically looking around earlier, but the receptionist said the organization picked up her stuff. The idiots failed to tell her where to find them, though. What a pain.

She sifted through her carry-on bag, the only possession she had with her, and pulled out a folder. The flipped through the information given in the schedule. It had arrived in the mail, right before she left the other day, but until then, had not found herself inclined to start reading through it.

She skimmed the pages, looking for a phone number, or some way to contact an adult. Nothing: only given names and slight information on their area of expertise. She muttered some incoherent words. The packet was useless as far as she was concerned. She tossed it to the side for added effect.

"I hope whoever is running this joint finds us, Scout."

* * *

"Hey, dudes…" Hain and Davion looked up from where they had been seated. A larger man in a red uniform with white gloves and black slacks trotted up to them. He shook his colored hair: a natural black with red-dyed tips. He looked from one to the other with a slight frown. "What are we supposed to be telling your parents, what with you going off to the hospital within minutes of arriving, huh? There happens to be piece in the _contract _about kids getting into fights…"

Hain scowled. "_He _was making the moves on my sister." The ranger blinked in surprise, and turned to Davion, who had rolled his eyes in turn.

"You've been getting it on with chick-a-dees already? You're a real pimpin' dude, aren't ya?"

The blond shrugged. "Yeah, whatever."

The ranger ignored the boy's vague response. "Well, seeing as how you two have managed to be beating the snot out of each other, we're going to assume that you've gotten it out of your system." The two gave him a suspicious expression. "We're going to hope you have, anyways, because this is a non-refundable program. Your parents have had to pay their money for this, and here you all are, making friends through bodily harm. Not very smart, dudes. Not at all. So, pretty much," he clasped his hands. "No more fighting, or you're getting kicked out, understand?"

"Yeah, whatever."

The ranger took Davion's nonchalance and Hain's silence as an affirmative. "Righteous. Now get your wounded asses up, cause higher ups are already mad about the confusion with the delayed flights and all that jazz."

Hain cradled his wounded wrist that had been put in a sling. The bone had a minor fracture apparently. He wasn't sure how he managed that one. Usually his attacks on people were spot on. He also was debating on whether or not he was more upset about the damage he had taken (fractured wrist from punch, bruised lip being elbowed, and bite on shoulder from sister) or pleased with the wounds Davion was able to take in (badly bruised jaw, slap and bites from sister). While he was happy his sister had dished out some attacks, he was annoyed that she had turned around and bit him, too. With her warped perspective, he had no idea why she had acted the way she had.

Davion grunted, adjusting the ice pack being held to his face, and followed the ranger. The two boys shared a glare for a moment, neither really wanting to walk in sync with the other, before the ranger gestured for them to follow.

Friday and Shawn were waiting, as well as a girl with brown and blue hair. She was seated off to the side, and was the only one not to stand up when the three entered the room. Davion's brown eyes flickered to hers, but only for a second.

She cocked her head, wary of the two boys. The ranger had found her earlier, waiting outside of the port, completely confused on how she had gotten to there. There had been a large crowd of people, and she had somehow gotten swept away and quite literally shoved outside. She was unsure of where to go, and eventually stored away her pokemon, and ventured inside to ask one of the receptionists for help.

The ranger had taken note of her; "Blue-dude, are you Lyra Smith?" When she answered an affirmative, he had swooped over, and dragged her along, explaining how there was a current mix-up with flights and fights. Because other rangers were running late, she was going to have to go with him to the hospital: apparently two boys had started fighting, oddly enough, without their pokemon.

She could only assume that the two miscreants were these two.

What she found interesting was the parallel between the two males. Her attention was split: one was an albino, and before meeting his sister, she had never met one before. Naturally, the apparent difference had caught her interest, especially when she noticed his eyes were red, like his sister's. She found the imagery both intriguing and a little intimidating. The color was less striking than false, colored lenses that some people would wear, but still stood out to her.

To further add to his odd coloring, he had an aura of aggression about him. He held his posture oddly: his back was almost inclined to full height, except for his shoulders that curved forward in anger. His right hand was cradled in both a sling, and by a clenched left hand. The albino boy also had a bandage on his lip. She vaguely wondered if his attitude was because of his current predicament, or because that was just the sort of person he was.

The person next to him, she noticed for somewhat different reasons: even with the apparent swelling of the left side of his jaw (she couldn't tell how bad it was until the ice pack in his hand shifted slightly), his looks were striking. Even as a wounded man, he stood with a lazy, yet confident stance. Merely battle wounds that were of no concern to him. If anything, he looked nonchalant. He moved the ice away from his face for a moment to toss his head so that he could shake his bangs out of his brown eyes. She almost smiled. He had really pretty eyes.

The she noticed his legs and nearly doubled over in shock. He had a baggy hoodie on, which only emphasized the shortness of his denim shorts. He seemed to be prone towards shopping in the wrong section of the store: ladies only. If it weren't for his body language that oozed testosterone, she'd wonder if he was a drag queen in passing. The shaved legs, no matter how in shape, did not help his case.

"The dudes have been retrieved, ladies and gentle-dudes. Let's get going." He then paused. "Oh, I'm Bear, by the way. Ranger Bear." He then trotted along out the door, expecting the teens to follow him obediently.

The five blinked simultaneously.

Shawn turned to Friday and mouthed: "As in 'Smokey the Bear'?" Friday snickered and shrugged. Hain turned to her questioningly, but followed the two out the door silently. Davion swagger close behind Lyra whose pace was speeding up because of his close proximity.

She wasn't sure if he was trying to get her to speed up, was trying to get around her, or was simply more accustomed to smaller personal bubbles. As she followed the little group out the door, through the hallways to the eventual outside world, she attempted to move about, giving room for him to move past her, and the like, but he continued to shepherd her. It was not until she turned to look at him, she was met with a blank expression. She raised an unimpressed brow. Davion sighed, and then with a slight exaggeration of his step, moved into step with her.

She turned back to face the other three ahead of her, chatting. She wasn't really interested in being so close to him, but at least he was not longer walking on top of her heels.

Her eyes traced him out of the corner of her eye. She inwardly smirked at the imagery of his right hand in his pocket: the pants were so short that the tip of the pocket that his hand was tucked in was peeking out from beneath his shorts. She found it curious that a male would be inclined to wear such skimpy clothing. It was hardly comfortable for _her _to wear, and it was socially acceptable, for what reason would he?

Her focus returned to Bear, who was waving them over to a black van. She assumed the blond was from some place really hot. Or perhaps was an exotic dancer. Or lost a bet (but he looked way too comfortable for that to be the reasoning).

"Alright-y dudes, let's get going; no worries, all your stuff is in the back. He swung around the front of the car, getting into the driver's seat. Friday opened the door for everyone after her brother made a move to do so, and realized his handicapped state. Hain made his way to the back of the bus, followed by Friday who situated herself next to him. Shawn gestured for Lyra to go ahead of him. He made a move to do the same for Davion, but the blond gave the tiniest of inclines in his head to hint for him to go inside. Shawn shrugged and followed in, seated in the middle, whereas Lyra was sitting alone in the front.

Davion climbed in and simply sat in the front row: closest to the door, and leaving one seat in between himself and Lyra. Instinctively, she situated herself further from him.

Bear started up the van, and as he turned around to back up, he instructed, "Why don't the lot of you introduce yourselves?"

"Um, Shawn." The black haired boy behind Lyra raised his hand slightly, and offered a smile.

"Lyra."

"I'm Friday, this is Hain."

"Hnn."

Lyra turned to Davion expectedly. He turned to her, and then looked back out the window. She frowned slightly. What was his problem?

Friday rolled her eyes from the back of the van and leaned forward. "What, not so friendly _now, _are you?" Lyra turned questioningly to the girl. "Careful," the girl was grinning, but her eyes flashed dangerously. "He could jump you at any second."

Lyra whipped her head to the blond, eyes wide. Shawn's voice saying "well that's somewhat of an exaggeration …" sounded like an echo to her ears.

It was not as if she necessarily believed what the other girl was saying, but she still was wary of the guy. It was weird how he sat, legs extended, closed off, yet at ease. His head was leaning against the window, as if trying to sleep. His legs were splayed out, occupying a great amount of space so that she was inclined to draw her own legs together.

She offered a smile to the boy behind her, who also seemed drawn toward himself, but not disinclined toward interacting.

"So where are you from?" She turned her head to meet bright blue eyes. Apparently she was able to open him up for some small talk.

"Um, Lilycove." She answered.

Shawn's guarded eyes brightened in recognition. "Ah, the Hoenn region. Surprised you made your way over here." She shrugged with a slight smile.

"It's not like we're not going to take a detour back home." She pointed out. "And it's not _that_ far."

Shawn scoffed. "Uh, yeah it is. I know that a lot of people will string its proximity together with the Johto and Kanto regions, and yeah, in comparison to Sinnoh, it is closer. But it's not actually that close, I'd say there's a good three hundred sixty miles from one location to the other. Hence, we're not that close."

Lyra was taken back by his correction. "O-okay." She made a move to face forward again. There was a reason she didn't care for interacting with people. And she wasn't in the mood to argue.

"How's the weather there? I hear it's pretty warm, so it's pretty wise of you to bundle up. Davion there, I had to tell him to put on a sweatshirt." She tried to imagine the blond in even lighter clothing, but could only come up with male stripper attire.

"Ah, that was nice of you." She allowed.

He shrugged off her halfhearted compliment. "So, is it as warm as they say?"

"Um, I guess? It's warmer than Violet City, but I suppose that's not really saying much."

"You moved from there, I take?"

"Yeah, when I was younger."

"You dyed your hair." The two paused in the interrogation: Davion's attention was on Lyra. Unreadable.

She frowned, but nodded. His statement was odd, as if he was aware that it hadn't always been blue. Beyond the obvious of 'no person is born with blue hair so obviously it wasn't always' and into the realm of 'you've changed because I've seen you before'. She always considered herself good at reading people, but because of his aloof attitude toward seemingly everything, she was having a hard time gauging him.

"Um, yes, it's dyed."

"Obviously," muttered Shawn.

"When?" The Davion boy seemed prone to one-worded responses.

"Uh, earlier this year: when I turned seventeen." She had intended to give him minimum information, but her age slipped out in the process. From the way that his eyes flickered with recognition, and with a sense of achievement and understanding, turned away, she knew she was missing something.

"Pretty young, then, huh? I'm nineteen, so it's kind of funny to hear." She realized in slight amusement that his age was the first piece of information that he had provided about himself. Besides the fact that apparently he was an informative person. She shrugged.

It did not take long for the conversation to die out, after some further emphasis on her young age. She wasn't really in the mood to talk. He did have somewhat of a point; her plane ride had been long, and she wanted to sleep. The older boy seemed to get the message when her head kept lolling to the back of her seat.

Friday and Hain proved to be much more interesting company. The female of the two twins had little sympathy for her brother's wrist, if anything she seemed to be more inclined to poke fun at her brother's expense.

"Hey, moron, should we go find some caterpie to make a cast for you? To make sure you don't go hurting yourself again." Friday smirked.

"Ha, ha, ha. You're so funny." He grumbled. Shawn couldn't help but smile to himself in his observations.

"Come to think of, we should get you a full body cast. Seeing as how you're so delicate, and all."

"Don't make me hit you."

"And break your _other _hand? I wouldn't chance it, brother dearest."

"It's a _fracture._"

"Oh, excuse the technicality."

An otherwise long ride turned into one that seemed to last minutes. The buildings in the city quickly grew in size: they were headed to Saffron City, the metropolis of the Kanto region. From what Shawn had read from the itinerary, they were going to be staying in a newly built hotel for a couple of nights. He wasn't sure what they were going to be doing in their stay, since the guide was somewhat vague. Though as he noticed, in the midst of the twins' playful banter, that the sun had already set, he found that he did not particularly care. He figured he could follow Davion and Lyra's move and go to bed.

"Oy, sleeping-dudes, time to get up." Bear was moving his arm behind his chair. Vaguely aiming to wake up the sleeping teens. "We're driving in, and I'm not lugging your butts up."

Davion moaned as he lifted himself off the window. Apparently a light sleeper. Or he was never fully asleep in the first place. He raised his arms to the ceiling of the vehicle, and pressed against it as a stretch. The three that had been awake the entire ride watched him with amusement. He resembled a more docile snorlax.

Oblivious to the watchful eyes, he turned to the sleeping girl next to him. She had curled up on the seat in her sleep, inches away from him. He placed a careful hand on her shoulder and nudged at her to get up. She grumbled incoherently, but blearily seated herself in an upright position. Davion retracted his hand as if he had never touched her in the first place.

The van made a turn, pulling up to a large building. Surrounding the double doors outside the entrance were a collection of machokes and machamps. "Are they going to help with the luggage?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah, pretty useful pokemon, aren't they?" Bear grinned over his shoulder. "Now get out of my van."

A collection of awkward, tired scrambling ensued. Particularly when the machokes began to get impatient, and literally took the sleepy Lyra and Hain, the two slowest moving of the group. Hain spewed a slur of insults, which only encouraged the large pokemon. Lyra didn't take much notice towards being manhandled. She was too tired to care.

Shawn, Friday, and Davion walked in sync with one another. When Davion allowed for a slight shudder, Shawn turned to him with a knowing sigh.

"Told you it was cold here."

"Yeah, whatever."

Like mareep, the teens were guided and separated into different rooms that they would be sharing. The only two who occupied the same room were Hain and Shawn, neither complaining toward their current roommate. The rest had roommates that had yet to arrive.

"Told you there were some flight problems earlier." Bear had explained.

Davion had shrugged, returning to his room, moving past the double beds, cuing Lyra and Friday to do the same after a couple of 'goodnights'. Davion stripped himself of his sweatshirt and shorts before rummaging through his carry-on bag. He pulled out two pokeballs, releasing a growlithe and zangoose.

The growlithe shook its mane grumpily. It disliked the confinements of its pokeball, and was not used to being carried around in it for long periods of time. He nipped at his owner to remind him of his distaste. The zangoose scowled, equally displeased, but instead took to the closer of the two beds, and lay across it.

Davion patted the growlithe, and then headed off to the bathroom. He needed to clean himself up. The earlier activities had left him smelly, and he knew he smelled of sex (his pokemon were not fazed anymore, but merely quirked a brow at it). He scrubbed himself hard with the bar of soap provided by the hotel. His skin turned from a slight brown to a dark red in a matter of seconds, despite the cold water spilling down on his back. He shook his watered down hair, continuing to rub.

Ten minutes later, he emerged from the shower, reaching for a towel to dry himself off. He shook the water out of his wet hair, and continued with further hygienic cleaning. Davion left the bathroom with damp hair, minty breath, and free of his towel. He slid under the covers of the bed that the zangoose had settled on top of. The growlithe had joined him.

Davion patted the two pokemon as the snuggled up on either side of him. "Flight attendant's left now." He slurred. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. The zangoose nestled closer to him. "Gone."

**Sorry, no smut in this chapter. XP**

**For those of you submitting new OCs, would like to remind people I ONLY accept through PM. Also, would love more ranger characters. But that does not mean I'm no longer accepting campers/students, cause I'd like more of those, too. Preferably from Hoenn and Sinnoh, cause those regions need more love. Also, try to have trainers with pokemon in the same region. So it makes sense and whatnot. And for those of you who have sent me characters and they haven't appeared yet, they will soon. Sorry if you're anxious for the wait. For those of you whose characters have appeared, hope I am portraying them in an image that you like (not expecting to get identical to what you imagined, just going by info given to me).**

**New characters:**

**Lyra Smith - xXKaminari-TsubasaXx**

**Gaberiel "Bear" Ursada - Magicarp. Glub glub**


	4. Fare Thee Well Snuggle Buddies

**PLEASE READ: I'm still accepting OCs, and could use some more. Gender is not an issue, but please send me your characters in PM ONLY. If I choose to accept characters submitted by review, my story could get REMOVED. I am not making exceptions, but if you have sent me a character through review, and then send it to me through PM, I'll still accept it. Someone has already done that after realizing their mistake. **

**And on another note, in referring to OCs, I must say I find the process of seeing the characters you submit an exciting process. I am always so thrilled to see people entrusting their creations in me.**

**For those of you who have submitted characters through PM and have yet to see them, sorry for the wait, they'll get in.**

"Good morning to you, _Wickins._"

Davion took a moment to depart from his slumber; the zangoose that was curled around his head yawned widely, blinked several times, and then narrowed its eyes. The growlithe curled under the blond's arm and nuzzled its head further into his chest. The canine didn't want to awaken. Davion moaned and grunted as he propped himself up, careful not to disturb the growlithe.

"Are these two pokemon _yours?_"

Davion blearily blinked and stared up at the man who had entered his room. A large man over six feet in height lumbered over his bed. Davion shifted himself; Ginji leapt off the bed, while Jared, the zangoose, shimmied away to the head of the bed. The red headed man's crew cut only added to the brawly man's appearance. The grim scowl certainly didn't help, either.

"I asked you a question, Wickins."

Davion sat to full height, not bothering to cover up when the covers fell aside slightly, not showing privates, but making it very clear he wore no clothes. The lumbering man took a step back in surprise, but otherwise made no indication that he noticed.

"Yeah…?"

"I am going to have to assume that you were _unaware _that pokemon are not _allowed_ in this hotel. Otherwise you're going to be written up for yet _another_ offense, which is not looking too good. Not even twenty-four hours and you have a second offense." The man folded his arms over his chest. "Start talking."

"Hmm …mmmnnn.." Davion rubbed his eye as he glanced at his pokemon, warily eyeing the stranger. "I … wasn't informed. Thought it was only okay at the airport, were there signs or - ?"

"There's a bold one at the front gate: no pokemon." At Davion's incredulous expression, the man added. "For those with allergies, pokemon are not allowed. Also, this is a place of peace, and we don't wish to tempt trainers to break into battle." His brown eyes narrowed. "It's common courtesy to respect a hotel's wishes, especially one kind enough to give us a discount for holding so many students here."

The large man leaned back expectantly. Davion looked about himself, then at his pokemon. Ginji uttered a little whine. Jared's ears twitched in displeasure. He turned back to the mystery man. He stared.

"Don't give me that look! Put your pokemon in their pokeballs and give them to me. They will be relocated to the little farm on the edge of the city." He took note, or perhaps sympathy, of the boy's wary expression, and added: "You can visit them during breaks, and at our next location, you may sleep with them, but for now, and at other hotels where they are not allowed, please abide by the given rules."

Davion literally rolled out of bed, thrusting his head to the side, his body following after. He took the sheets with him to the floor. In the process, he grabbed a hold of the growlithe. The canine wriggled in his grasp, not wanting to leave. The blond leaned forward and offered a soothing kiss on top of his companion's head. The growlithe gave him a reassuring lick on his bruise, before Davion handed the pokemon over to the larger man.

The man took the growlithe, raising a brow. Davion jerked his head at the zangoose, hinting that the critter aught to follow his fellow pokemon. The zangoose grumbled, butted his head affectionately at Davion, and then trotted over to the large man. The two pokemon obeyed, but not without displeasure.

"The two of them don't like pokeballs, just take them as is." His eyebrows furrowed. "Please."

The older man, Jason, relaxed his stance slightly, but did not release his hold. Perhaps it was the apparent wounds on the boy. Or possibly the sudden lonely stance the boy had taken. Or very well it could be the fact that he was in his natural state. Whatever the case was, he had a slight twinge of compassion. He shook his head, but smiled slightly. "They'll be perfectly comfortable, and we're only going to be staying for another day or two, to wait for the rest of the arrivals. It's not like they'll be gone forever. Get a grip," he said playfully.

Davion's expression went blank instantly. He looked away. "Yeah, whatever."

Jason raised an unimpressed brow. "Right, well, say goodbye to these two, and I'll see you downstairs in a couple hours." His eyes traced the blond. "And do have on some proper trousers."

He whipped around, heavy steps accenting his departure.

It was too early in the morning for him to be dealing with naked teens with attitudes.

* * *

"This is so stupid." A girl with dyed bright red hair muttered. She handed over two pokeballs scowling. The elderly woman at the desk smiled understandingly, and took them from her. She was not going to berate the girl from not wishing to be parted from her pokemon. The bond between pokemon and their trainers is a special thing that the elder admired greatly.

Grumbling, the girl flashed her pale blue eyes to her male companion. "I'm going to wait outside, alright?" She didn't wait for him to respond; she simply began stalking off.

"Wait, don't go outside. I don't want you wandering off." The older boy called after her. The girl rolled her eyes and slammed the door shut. The boy turned back to the elderly woman and sighed deeply. Penelope Gunders smiled reassuringly at him. He seemed awfully tired.

"Are both you and your sister going on the Ranger Tour?" Penelope struck up some small talk as she took his two pokeballs and inserted them into the reading machine. She was getting their data, and storing it into the machine to keep track. The fact that so many pokemon were being placed under their care meant that they were going to be earning a good portion of money for a bit: she was reasonably in the good mood.

"Yes." The boy admitted. He took off his black square glasses and began to clean the lenses with a handkerchief he had stowed away in his pocket. His large brown eyes squinted to accommodate for his sudden lack of vision.

"Is she your sister?" From the way the girl had dressed, a tight low-cut shirt with shorts, she wouldn't have been too surprised if she were some sort of cal-girl. But teenaged girls these days seemed to wear less and less. The boy pulled out his trainer's card for her to slide through the machine, to verify these pokemon were his. She took note that his name was Nikolai Chepovetsky. The girl had the same last name.

"Little sister." He answered politely. His gaze kept moving to the door that his sister had exited from.

"Aww, are you two excited for the trip. I've met with many young trainers, and have seen them all return here with the happiest of faces. People really grow. It's such an amazing thing to see, really." Penelope smiled. "I wish the program were around when I was younger." She said wistfully.

"Yes, I can understand that." Nikolai said slowly. He twitched his nose as he put his glasses on once more. He continued to wriggle his nostrils afterwards, his neat bowl-cut hair twitching slightly. He was somewhat gangly, automatically pegged as the bookish, indoors type. Especially from the way that he was dressed: a trench coat buttoned up to his neck, whereas most people would have left the last two buttons loose. Poor boy carried himself very tensely.

"Yes, have you met any others yet? That's always the best part: making new friends, that is." At that point she had finished recording his information; she placed the pokeballs on top of the conveyer belt that moved into the next room. There, her husband would transfer the pokemon based on type to different sections of the day care. Each one was treated carefully by the two owners.

The black haired boy paused to consider her question. "Not officially, no. I suspect there may have been a few on our plane ride, but for some reason there was a lot of confusion and we ended up only getting quickly escorted out of the airport by a ranger. It was quite horrid." The boy shuddered for effect. He visibly paled.

The elder woman cooed in sympathy. "Ah, yes, I heard about that." She clicked her tongue in disapproval. "Some trainers were fighting around air planes, I heard. Got right out of the plane and started battling. Cause some disarray."

Nikolai's jaw dropped. "_What?_ How did you hear about that?"

The woman shrugged, but smiled. She liked having his full attention. "The entire port has been talking about it. We get a lot of trainers here, so news travels fast. Especially with the few psychic pokemon we have in our lot." She gestured behind herself. "Quite the frustrating tale."

"No kidding," he grumbled. "We got in at 5:00 am this morning besides of those hooligans." He tugged at some hair on his head, realized what he was doing, then begun to flatten it out, back to its original, slightly curled format.

"Oh, deary, that is early." Penelope pouted. "Must have been a rough flight."

"Yeah, no kidding." He began to slump, before catching himself. "Um, are we about finished here?" He angled his head to attempt to look over the counter. "My sister and I do need to check in…"

"Yes, yes, yes!" The woman waved her hand at him dismissively. "Here, let me just give you your trainer's card." She handed over the item. "Have fun now!" She paused as he began to turn away. "Also, visiting hours are between 11:00 am to 5:00 pm, so if you want to come in to see your pokemon later and hang out with them, you may."

He waved over his shoulder, muttering something about visiting being a good idea.

* * *

Chanel Marie could _not_ believe her luck.

She was exceptionally tired, for starters. She had just flown in earlier that morning, and despite being set up in first class, she was unable to get a decent night's sleep. She had been under the impression that she was going to arrive last night, but because of flight delays and cancelations, she was forced to sleep on the plane. Barely. It was pretty much impossible for her to get full rest without being in a proper bed with a soft mattress, blanket and satin pillow.

Airplanes have yet to be efficient enough to provide such necessities.

She then was forced into a van with several others, following some idiot of a ranger who referred to himself as some make-believe animal called 'Bear'. It was during the car ride that she learned she would have to be _sharing _a room with another. She could have sworn her father had made a call so that she could have her own room, but apparently that was not allowed, for it took away from the 'bonding' experience. To further emphasize the point, her pokemon were then taken from her. Even her precious meowth! The stupid hotel didn't allow for pokemon, so they had to be taken to some stupid day care for the next couple of days. She just knew that they were going to not bathe her pokemon or feed them the correct food. They'd get low class, processed food.

She had requested for an exception to be made for her meowth since it is such a trained darling, but some other ranger got all huffy with her. It was ridiculous how sensitive they were about some silly rules. So some people had allergies; weren't there medicines available to fix that or something? Apparently the normal habitants of the hotel were not aware of this 'new' medical treatment.

The idiot, Bear, suggested they all go down together in the van to drop off their pokemon. He suggested they check out visiting hours as well, but when she noticed the other potential occupants of the automobile to be some stupid albino girl, a gangly boy, and a girl with cheaply dyed red hair, she made a pass. She'd rather walk.

What annoyed her was how quickly the ranger made the decision to just leave without her. She actually was going to have to walk. The jerk!

The fat lady at the front desk had provided her with a map; she was going to get to this stupid farm if it killed her!

It also occurred to her, as she begun trekking through the busy city streets, just which city she was in, and just how much potential shopping she could get done. Department and designer stores passed by her in the dozens, multiple times she would be highly tempted to window shop. She would only be brought out of her fantasies when she would realize the time, and be all the _more _determined to get to the farm. From what she had studied on the map, it was a good four miles away, and at the pace she was going, would probably take a couple of hours to reach. She hated her current timing.

Twenty minutes into her walk, her feet _really_ began to hurt. Chanel was more than aware that wedged heels were not the best of choices for long distances, but she had been in a rush when leaving her luggage, and hadn't thought to change. Each step was an even greater of a reminder as a shock wave from the souls of her feet up to her knees would flash through her legs. She looked down at her shoes: beautiful two inch, copper in color, with intricate flowers with studs in the middle. The flowers laced together to form a thong for her hot pink toes. The slightly nippy weather did not help her discomfort, either.

With a combination of determination and pure stubbornness, she marched through five blocks before she felt she truly would not be able to walk further. She stumbled slightly into a coffee shop. "Just get myself a brief drink, rest my feet, then I'll be off." She promised herself.

She waltzed up to the cashier, ordering a sweetened coffee, before finding a seat for herself. Chanel found a chair and table by the large window that allowed her view of the street she had come from. She figured if she saw anyone she recognized she could ask for a ride, or perhaps an exchange in shoes. When the latter thought crossed her mind, it occurred to her that she could always _buy_ a pair. She grinned at the thought. It certainly would be an acceptable reason to go shopping.

A pimply boy in a tacky green uniform handed her the coffee she had ordered. She took a sip, nodding him off, and pursed her lips behind the Styrofoam cup. It was rather bland, but what else was she to expect from a cheap place like the one she had decided to take a break in. She muttered a quick "ew" under her breath and swallowed another portion. It was warming, if anything.

The cup was half empty when she carelessly tossed it into the garbage. It was disgusting and she wasn't going to put her stomach through any more ghastly substances. She snatched a napkin, wiping her hands thoroughly. The entire place was totally gross. Why did she even go in there?

"Will you quit following me?"

A very male voice shouted past the walls of the shop. Chanel's attention was brought outside the window where a boy with rare white hair was stomping from the other side of the street. He was glaring vehemently back, clearly at someone on the opposing side. She grinned a bit at him. Thin build he may have, but he was on the handsome side. If she were less tired, perhaps she would be more inclined to introduce herself.

"Well just stay on _that_ fucking side of the road, got it? You piss me off! I'm stuck in this cast for six weeks because of you!"

Apparently whomever he was speaking with had responded.

The number of spectators on the street amused her immensely. For someone who wished to be left alone, he sure was one for the spotlight. She ran her tongue over her top front teeth thoughtfully.

She took note that his gaze was moving toward her general direction, and she realized that his acquaintance should be in her line of sight. She took note of a blond boy whose back was to the store. She recognized immediately that the teen had some money on him: fur trimmed leather jacket and styled denim shorts that came down half way his thighs. Her grin enhanced. He had quite the nice ass. And legs. She then frowned. Shaved legs. Pity if he turned out to be gay. Her vague worry increased when she took note of the double piercing on one of his ears. She couldn't tell from her angle if it was evened out on both sides or not.

"Because you were making the moves on my sister, you fuck!"

How was it that the albino hottie was able to hear the blond when _she _couldn't hear him when he was a foot away from her? Was the glass that thick or was his hearing that uncanny? Probably the latter since most people seemed to have their attention on him, and it was most disapproving. Especially shouting that last statement. He seemed to realize it, for he flushed slightly and looked away determinedly.

Another comment was made, muffled, but she could tell he said _something._ Oh, he had such a nice voice. Drawling, almost. She sighed as the other boy whipped around for another retort. His face would most likely be a let down.

"Shut up! You stay away from her for the rest of the tour, got it?"

The blond shrugged noncommittally as he responded with another retort.

Chanel's attention had been caught for another reason, however. The term 'tour', and considering their age group, hinted at the fact that they were possibly a part of the Ranger Tour. Albeit, there may be more tours running about the large city, but somehow, she had an inkling they were all involved.

She briskly walked out of the store, purposely jerking her hips in a figure eight pattern, intercepting the blond boy. She made sure to protrude her chest slightly as she 'bumped' into his chest. She was momentarily shocked to find his chest bare, then incredibly pleased with her luck of coming into contact with nice pectorals and abdomen. With a lowered head, she took a slight step back, adopting an apologetic look.

"Oh, I'm _sorry._" She gushed. Her fluster became real when she finally saw his face. Absolutely beautiful: windswept hair, opened jacket, a slight flush to his face from the slight chill in the air, breath-taking eyes. He was handsome, strong, most likely wealthy from the jacket he adorned on his broad shoulders. Ignoring the horrid bruising on his jaw, she had possibly just discovered her ideal boyfriend. "It's just, I'm a little lost, you see." She giggled to emphasize on her supposed stupidity. "I'm on my way to this ranch, to visit my precious meowth, because the Ranger Tour I'm on won't allow pokemon in the hotel and, well, I'm lost." She had gone in a complete circle.

The boy in front of her stared at her. Calculating. She shivered involuntarily, then with a slight smile said. "And I'm a little chilled."

He raised a brow, a look saying 'and why are you telling me this, stranger?'

"Oy, you said you're on the Ranger Tour?" She cocked her head to see the albino boy had run toward them. He was lucky he was an attractive guy, or she would have been cross about his interference on their one-on-one time.

"Yes," she smiled at him. Wasn't the idiot going on earlier about not wanting to be near the blond beauty for some reason? She had forgotten why, but it was probably something stupid. "Do you two know something about it?"

His eyes flashed at the mention of 'you two'. "Hn, yes." He looked between the two of them, but his gaze focused on her in finality. He was suspicious about something. Chanel took a slight step back. "I'm on my way to the ranch you were talking about; I know where I'm going, if you are so desperate to get there." She nodded animatedly.

"Yes, I'd _really_ appreciate that." She purred.

"…Right." He gave her a funny look. "Hain." He grunted. She smiled, taking his hand delicately.

"Chanel Marie." She flicked her hair over her shoulder. "And your name?" She blinked her emerald eyes at the blond boy. He took a step toward her.

"Davion." The blond strode over next to Hain, who proceeded to edge away from his companion.

Chanel and Davion. The names sounded so lovely together. Hopefully he has an amazing personality, and he'll be the perfect package. Oh, and is single.

Davion shoved his hands into his pockets and began walking fast paced. She skipped after him, mindful to keep a close distance between the two of them. She was determined to move just as quickly as he was, in multiple terms of the sense. She could feel Hain walking behind them, with a few feet between them.

"So, you're going to go see your pokemon, right?" She smiled at him. "That is _so _sweet of you. To show that you care about them, I mean. It's cool when a man shows he cares about things he well… cares about." She giggled again, and then looked ahead. It took a surprising amount of energy to look up at him. Particularly when his brown eyes would flicker to her in a stony fashion. "What sort of pokemon do you have with you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Growlithe … zangoose." He muttered. She grinned instantly at his choices. A growlithe, pre-evolved form of an arcanine. Both evolutionary forms have an intimidating air to them in name, particularly the latter. To have one means that it is extremely loyal and brave, determined to fight for its owner. Arcanines, where the canine grows into its regal bones, possessing a magnificent mane; many trainers are in envy of those who own one. The fiery pokemon is a powerful one that requires a good trainer to keep up with it. The zangoose is also a rambunctious one, although a normal type, it is strong with old blood, with an incredible instinct and memory. It will strike its foe without hesitation.

There's a lot you can tell about a person from the pokemon that they train.

"That's _so _cool." She cooed. "Are you going to evolve your growlithe? I think an arcanine would be amazing."

"Hn, whatever."

She turned to Hain. "What are _your_ pokemon."

He seemed displeased with her question, but answered nonetheless. "Blastoise, scizor, garchomp… and a blissey." He did not seem happy that he responded.

"That's cool; you must have really trained them to get to such high stages, huh?"

"… Yeah." He then turned his attention to Davion. "Hey shithead, it's bad enough I'm walking with _you_, why're you adding more obnoxious people to the venue?"

Chanel's jaw dropped. How dare he? She was being nice, and here he was, insulting her! She could have very well ignored his ass, but instead she thought she'd include him to avoid a third wheel (also just incase there was a better boyfriend in him, but that's a side note). Instead, he goes ahead and throws it in her face? That asshole! She ought to go and sic her rhydon on him! He'd certainly be singing a different tune then!

As she opened her mouth to defend herself, an arm swung around her shoulders and brought her close to a very warm body. She almost stopped walking in surprise. Davion had embraced her with one arm so that they were walking like an intimate couple! She looked up at him, blushing in wonder. His eyes met her, not warm, but not cold either. She could only assume his physicality was a good thing. He looked over his shoulder and made some sort of expression, or mouthed something to Hain, for he looked away in understanding.

"Ch…! Figures…"

Chanel began to wriggle in Davion's grasp. She was caught between her obvious physical interest and her sudden fascination, as well as her self-preservation to not be labeled as easy. "Um what…?"

He removed his arm after a moment, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Cold?"

Oh, she had said that earlier, hadn't she? Well she was still, of course. But that did not mean that she was entirely willing to be all intimate with him.

"I'll _live, _though." She stressed.

Davion shrugged before he continued his strut.

* * *

Teddy ran her hand through her hair, holding it back from her face. The wind kept blowing strands into her eyes and mouth, tickling her. She did not care for the sensation. The cool breeze had forced her to zip up her jacket. Her gloveless fingers thumbed the zipper regretfully. She had wanted to show off her low-cut shirt.

She nodded vaguely to some people walking by, curious at her appearance. She sighed, and then looked down. She jiggled her foot, eyes on her legs. She looked out, up the road that she and her brother had come from. She could imagine the winding turns and secret passages and short cuts taken to reach their current environment. She pictured perfectly their next location: the hotel.

She hooked her thumbs into the crook of her pants. Her head thumped slightly when contacted with the red wood of the building. Her nose twitched. She exhaled. Her knees shook for a moment before collapsing. She situated herself on the ground.

"I should just leave," she muttered. She looked back to the building she had exited earlier. Nicolai was taking his sweet time. The lady had already said hanging out with their pokemon wasn't possible until later (and she certainly wasn't interested in hanging out for several hours). What could he possibly be up to? So the dumb little minun and plusle were on the cling-y side; did that really mean he had to keep her waiting? When she left, she had intended for him to follow.

She sighed. Her brother was too busy with his nerves to catch on to her social cues.

Teddy looked back up the road again. She wondered if the other inhabitants were awake yet. She was more interested in meeting others her age in the program rather than babysit her pokemon. So she was not going to have them in her possession for a couple of days, it was no big deal.

Nikolai seemed determined to make it a problem.

In the midst of people walking up and down the street, three older teens stood out to her. Most of the townsmen walking about were older, she assumed there was a retirement home some place nearby, and these three were the first of her own age she had seen in a while. Her initial reaction was simply to admire. It was not a bad looking group, each standing out in their own way; an albino boy, skinny, who was walking several steps behind the two in front of him; a girl who was short (at least in comparison to her two companions) and curvy, with long dark hair and a couple of bleached highlights, curiously close to the lead; a blond beauty whose jacket flared open, stomach complimented by the wind. The red head decided she did not mind the weather so much anymore.

Her admirations morphed into surprised delight when the trio made a quick scan of the street for ongoing cars, cyclists, and pokemon, before running across toward her.

"Not so fast, Davion! These shoes are being such a pain!"

"Then why are you wearing them?"

"Because they pull this outfit together, obviously – and I wasn't talking to you!"

The blond escaped the bickering of the others, sauntering up to her with purpose, and then past, into the building. His eyes flickered to her for a fleeting moment as he opened the door. She offered a smile, and he looked away as he reached for the door –

"Teddy-!"

A sounding bang resonated across the street. The handsome blond stumbled back, clutching his upper chest, coughing. Nikolai emerged: she had never seen his large eyes get so big. The girl shrieked and ran to the blond's side. The albino doubled over laughing. She hadn't realized she had jumped up as well until the blond nudged away from her grasp slightly.

"I am so, so sorry. Are you alright? That was completely my fault! I should have been – oh my gosh! Do you have a heart condition? Asthma – ?"

"I'm fine," was the gruff reply. He shook away from the little crowd that had accumulated around him. He shook his head, unconsciously rubbing where he had been hit. His attention turned to her brother: brows lowered into a slant, lips thinned into a line of disapproval, pupils shrank considerably, and even she shuddered from his intense glare. He shoved past the frozen Nikolai.

Teddy figured he had more important business with the old woman than calming the nerves of her idiot brother.

**Wow. Davion is sure getting a lot more abuse than I had originally intended. Poor guy. And I did not even reach the point that I had originally wished with this chapter, yet it is longer than the previous. Go figure.**

**New characters:**

**Nikolai Chepovetsy/Theodora "Teddy" Chepovetsy – Fayth in Music**

**Jason O'Brien – Yajirobewillkillyou**

**Chanel Marie – Lolli-S**


	5. You Okay?

**So this took WAY longer than I had intended to update. I just had some trouble getting started because I **_**knew**_** what was happening and what I wanted to make occur, but there were so many decisions on what to put where, and which scenes needed to be shown. And then of course there was **_**school **_**and other concepts of life that happen to occur outside of the fanfiction realm, yet affect it so heavily.**

**Special shout out to MouringShade, who is my official editor. This person is amazing and deserves some loving. Perhaps in the form of Davion giving some personal 'love', debating on that. XD**

**Also, used a quotation from the book 'The Definitive Book of Body Language'. If asked, I will say where, but I'm pretty much making that note to say no I am not stealing and I am sourcing, so if any of you have read it, no need to panic. If you haven't read it, you should. It's a magnificent read. **

Beau Wordsworth stretched out against the vacant bed in his temporary room. He took note of the stiff mattress as he rolled his shoulders, and sighed in exhaustion. His wet clothes were strung up in the closet, while he rested in some casual slacks he had pulled out. He knew that he would probably regret having a wet bed later, having failed to actually dry himself off, but he was too tired to get up off the bed. He barely had the strength to scratch his head, let alone shower and dry himself off. As far as he knew, the only plans for the day were in the evening, and he figured he'd wake up in time for dinner. He only hoped that the rangers did not bring up his apparent stupidity.

He had taken a ship from Sinnoh, near Canalave City, soaring past the Oblivia region. When he was nearing up the West Sea Pillar, he decided to let out his mantyke so it could stretch its fins. As the pokemon leapt through the rippling waves, a couple of factors had occurred to him: first, the mantyke was swimming faster than the ship, second, it had recently acquired the move surf, and therefore was able to carry him across waters without tiring itself out so that they both drowned, and third, the initial ticket he had received for the ship was free, so there would be no suffering out of his pocket. With those excited thoughts, he offered up his luggage to one of the crew members who was working with the tour and jumped over the edge.

Salty, cool water had engulfed him as he plummeted into the ocean. The water felt much thicker and murkier than he had initially expected. Frantically, he had kicked upwards, losing one of his heavy shoes in the process. He gasped, sputtering and spitting the foul-tasting water from his mouth. He felt the slippery, smooth skin of his pokemon wriggling next to him. He welcomed the new presence, laying one arm over his friend. He then rubbed his eyes free of water, blinking and squinting fiercely.

"All right," he had rasped. "I'm out here, let's get going."

The mantyke then chirped affirmative, reeled itself back, and then jetted across the waters.

Beau had found then and there that propelling across foreign waters with legs slapping, waves splashing, and holding on for dear life on to a three foot three mantyke not the most effective way to travel. The fact that he had hit land a good half hour before the ship had, did not make up for the numb feeling that stretched over his entire body.

At Fuchsia City, he was so out of it that when the cab had picked him up to take him to Saffron, they had to backpedal to pick up his forgotten mantyke: left on the beach, wailing for its trainer. Instead of sleeping, he spent the entire ride apologizing with the driver chastising him in the background. He had actually welcomed the fact that his pokemon were taken from him: his source of guilt.

So now he was lying in his room, his luggage and clothes strewn about like a whirlwind had hit. Occasionally voices of other teens sounded in other rooms and in the hallway, but he didn't care enough to get up from his spot. He had an entire year to get to know these people, no need to start fraternizing then.

A sigh escaped his lips, and his muscles sunk further into the bed.

The door swung open, slamming against the wall. Beau jumped slightly, seeing a blond fumble to shut the door. A girl was calling out "See you later, Davion" in an obvious attempt at having less than pure implications. The teen shuddered, his shoulders shaking slightly. Trembling, he ran his fingers through his hair, drew a breath, and then turned around with a pained expression, looking like he was about to have a temper tantrum. He stopped short when he saw Beau. His eyes widened in alarm under his blonde bangs, and his jaw protruded slightly. Then he phased into a neutral stance, his posture reverting from seething to aloof arrogance.

Beau was less tense, but slightly suspicious of his apparent roommate. Their eyes met, a trivial acknowledgement of one another crossed between them. The redhead rolled his mane back onto the bed, half expecting his newfound roomie to start and lead a conversation, half expecting to be ignored completely, especially after seeing a huge transformation of presentation.

The exhausted teen closed his eyes, the volume of the other boy's movement and shuffling increasing from his missing sense. He could still feel the missing rhythm of the water against him, making the blood in his veins pulse in an outcry. His body was not too happy with him, and seemed to be trying to reject his entire being. Beau decided he was going to hurry up and figure out how to evolve his mantyke so it would at least double in size and be a much more effective pokemon to use for transportation.

A weight fell on his bed; presumably his roommate had seated himself next to him. Beau didn't open his eyes, but his body did slightly incline away from the other teen. His eyes flickered wildly under his eyelids, fighting the urge to open. He had originally been determined to push away the blond's presence from his mind, but now his thoughts were whirring wildly in an effort to understand why his personal space was being so heavily violated. Beau continued to debate between staring in annoyance toward the nuisance and not saying a word, knowing it really didn't matter. His roommate stood up before Beau could act on a further reaction than the one he already possessed, and he breathed out quietly in relief.

After a few moments of strained silence, the blond started moving around in his painfully loud manner again. He eventually exited and Beau was left to his thoughts and aching muscles.

His sudden solitary state seemed vaguely bittersweet.

* * *

"Gee, I just love the blue in your hair; did you do it yourself, or did you get it professionally done?"

Lyra smiled wearily at her new roommate, pulling out a change of clothes for the next day, her pajamas, as well as her toiletries. The other girl had arrived earlier in the morning, and had yet to cease talking to catch her own breath. Normally Lyra would prefer that others not coax her to speak, but this person was talking so much she felt her roommate was a loudred not a girl!

"Sister did it." She supplied, pulling out her toothbrush and toothpaste and putting them in a cup.

Her blonde roommate's smile broadened even further. Lyra wondered if it hurt. "You have a sister? How old is she? Older or younger, I mean? You two get along? I bet you do if she did your hair for you!" The other girl squealed, falling forward on to her bed kicking her legs. "I bet it must be so much fun to have a sister! I don't have any siblings, so I get so envious of anyone else who has a sibling – do you have any other siblings?" She had flipped over on to her back, pale green eyes shimmering behind her black, squared glasses.

Lyra could tell already this girl was going to latch on to her and grow on her and there was nothing she could do about it. "Alyssa is older than me, and I guess we get along alright." She paused in her arrangement and sat back, considering her relationship with her sister. It certainly was strained at times. She was usually under the opinion that they had next to nothing in common; her sister made bidoofs look genius and put all of her concentration into her looks, rather than her academics. Her sister currently had dyed blonde hair, and after graduating from Sunyshore's Modeling School in Sinnoh, she went on to become a professional model. Lyra never got used to seeing her sister in magazines and on billboards. But she seemed to be doing well for herself, and Lyra was happy her sibling was doing so well.

The only time her sister had ever not enjoyed herself was when she had a nasty break up with a boyfriend. Apparently he was no longer interested, and had never wanted a serious relationship in the first place, and had discarded her like she was nothing. A couple days later, she had seen him with another girl, going off to the same location that they had used to hook up. Lyra had hated to see her sister in such a distraught state, especially over a boy, and sometimes wondered if that occurrence played a part in her wariness toward males.

"Ooh, how old is she?" Gale asked, flipping her blonde hair.

"Nineteen." Lyra paused in her organizing and rummaged through her trunk. She emerged with several magazines, handing them to her roommate. "'Alyssa Smith' is who you are looking for," She told her. The platinum blond shook her head, slightly undoing her messy bun, and greedily took the Sheek magazine.

"Oh my gosh, she's a model! That is too cool! I've sometimes wondered about being a model, being dolled up and all that; I bet it would be tons of fun!" Gale squealed as her eyes scanned for Lyra's sister.

The brunette regarded the girl with a critical eye. The talkative one was certainly _thin _enough to be a model, and her slight tan complimented her well, but from the terrible posture the girl held herself in, with a completely curled spine and her nose an inch away from the pages; as well as the fact that the girl simply did not have that _edge _to her looks, it would be hard for her to get into the business. Lyra turned back to her clothes, debating between pants. Gale could possibly be a model, but only one to demonstrate clothes for different body types, otherwise, not going to happen.

"Ooh! Is this her? Is this her?" Lyra turned to Gale's jabbing finger at one page where a blonde was being flourished with flowers in expensive underwear, riding on the back of a dragonair in a lake was shoved in her face. The brunette adjusted her glasses and looked away, muttering an affirmative. "Oh my gosh! She is _beautiful,_" Gale exploded. Lyra frowned, thinking about that statement. Not really, she mused. She's really pretty and knows how to work the pheromones, but her actual facial bone structure is not that superb, unlike Davion …

A vague blush crossed her cheeks at the unwanted thought. She banished the feeling of embarrassment, noting that she was just admiring an obviously handsome person. There was nothing wrong with that. There was a difference between slight crush and infatuation.

"I wonder if I should style my hair like that." Gale ran her fingers through her hair thoughtfully, looking at the picture. Lyra shrugged. The girl could do what she wanted, made little difference to her. She glanced at the girl next to her, and noted her expectant smile. The blonde was waiting for a response that actually spurred advice.

"Your current style suits you fine." Lyra told her. Her statement was true; the girl had the kind of face that would not be complimented by her thin hair framing her face. Gale had pulled her hair back into a low, loose bun that was actually somewhat pretty. Her eyes were fair, but the glasses took away from her looks instead of adding. Lyra pushed up her own glasses. Like she was one to talk.

She rose from the bed, observing the work she had done. Her clothes were set out, toiletries in the bathroom for later use, luggage tucked to the side: she was all set. Gale took note of her look of finality, and stood up herself, handing the magazine back with a smile.

"Thanks, and how about we go visit with others, huh?" Gale beamed as she edged closer to her brunette counterpart, a method to shepherd Lyra out into the hallway. "Please? I totally want to go meet with the others, I'm so excited to see them! Come with me!"

Lyra was given little chance to argue: Gale grabbed a hold of her arm and dragged her out of the room, squealing. Lyra made a gesture for the blonde to take it down a notch, as they didn't know if other guests were on the same floor as them, and therefore others would be disturbed by their loud levels. Gale hushed immediately in response, but her joyful mood did not waver.

No one was outside, but the doorway across from them was opened to two girls moving about their belongings. Lyra followed Gale tentatively into the room, hoping that the two teenagers were actually involved; it would be awkward to just walk in on people staying for completely different reasons. Once she realized that Friday was one of the girls, her worries calmed.

"Woah, your hair is white!" Gale gasped, prancing over to Friday, who was playing with her pokegear in boredom. She was dressed in a black tank and loose cargo pants. Her red eyes flickered to the blonde, and rolled dramatically. It did not take a genius to guess that her coloring was a frequent topic for her.

"Really?" Friday asked with dry surprise. She fingered her side-swept bangs as if she were examining them. "I had _no _idea. Such a pleasure you were able to point out that fine little detail." Her attention turned to Gale. "I feel much more complete now."

"O-oh." A slight flicker in Gale's mood. "Yeah, I suppose you do get that a lot. What I meant to ask, was if it was natural, or something. I mean, it looks it, but I never imagined white hair was natural for kids. Or maybe your hair has lost its coloring already?"

"She's albino, Gale." Lyra muttered. She figured she ought to point out the obvious to the girl before she embarrassed herself further. Friday looked at Lyra, perhaps with appreciation, and then turned back to her pokegear.

"Do you guys have plans for the day?" Friday asked. "I know some kids tried to go see their pokemon, but apparently the visiting hours are out of whack. Then there was a slight shopping spree that a couple of the girls and guys went on, but besides that, not really sure what to do." She shrugged. "Ari and I were half debating it here."

Lyra and Gale looked around to mentioned girl they had yet to meet, and as if on cue, the other girl that had been in the room earlier emerged from the bathroom. Lyra whistled mentally. This girl is what she would call model potential. The girl had muscle, sleek and firm that was accented in her controlled walk: shoulders poised, back ramrod straight, hips in a figure-eight roll. Lyra had never seen a girl with a pear-shaped body look so good, and made a slight comparison to her own square-shaped build. Her cheek bones were high, lips full, and dark hair thick and wavy fell past her shoulders. She wrinkled her small, perked nose to suppress a sneeze.

"It's a pleasure to meet you!" Gale offered her hand to shake. The beauty paused, then smiled slightly, taking her hand firmly. Gale gasped and scampered over to Friday to shake hands, realizing she had not treated the white haired girl with the same respect.

Lyra took her hand as well, smiling slightly. "I'm Lyra. That was Gale." She jerked her head to her roommate in good nature.

"Ari," the brunette trilled. Her large eyes widened further. A pretty aquamarine color. She let go and addressed the room, Friday in particular. "Is there a plan for exploring today?" Her arms had folded over her chest as she leaned against the wall.

"Nah, we're discussing it now." Friday stretched her arms above her head. "Any suggestions? I don't particularly care."

"Why don't we go out for ice cream?" Gale asked. Friday chortled, as if sharing a private joke. When questioned about her reaction, she shook her head muttering she just 'remembered something'.

"I'm going to look for the exercise room, actually." Ari interjected. "Come if you want, I don't think I'll be there long; just want to check out the equipment. I do want to work out later, though."

The other three took in her nomination with hesitance. Lyra flat-out did not want to do anything that required physical labor. Friday was not in the mood. Gale did not care to exercise, but she was willing to adapt to others' desires.

"Um, I dunno." Friday muttered. "Just to see?" She asked, a verification that they would not be there long.

A defiant expression crossed Ari's face. "I don't mind going by myself. Go get ice cream, I just want to check it out. No need to drag anyone." At this, more indecisive looks exchanged, along with more reluctance to not be accused as 'ditchers'. Lyra could not tell if the girl really cared if they were with her or not, but from the way that she pointed her body toward the door, showing she just wanted to go, and lolled her head back with impatience, Lyra figured the three of them were not very important factors.

"Well, if you don't mind…" Lyra took the role as the decision maker. She pulled out her pokegear. "If you need anything – why don't we trade numbers?" The brunette paused, and then strolled over to her luggage on the opposite side of the room. Gale whipped hers out as well, excited to add new numbers. Lyra assumed that Friday and Ari had already exchanged numbers, since the albino put her pokegear away.

A few moments of fumbling and name-spelling, and the girls felt better about the option of going separate ways. "Do you want to call us to meet up with you later?" Gale asked. "We don't mind waiting up or anything."

Ari shrugged. "I might exercise, actually. Feel weird after the flight; want to get it out of my system." She then offered a nod of her head, and strolled away with grace that they all vaguely wished they walked with.

"Suit yourself." Friday turned to walk in the other direction, toward the elevators.

"Bye!" Gale called across the hallway. She scampered after the albino, chattering about her favorite flavors, strawberry and girafarig tracks. Lyra sighed, quickly ran across and double-checked that her room was locked, and then hurried her pace to chase after the two.

* * *

Ari flipped her hair up into a high ponytail. She stepped lightly on to a treadmill, setting the speed so that she'd run a mile in seven minutes, and then started up the machine. Her sneakers squeaked with each step she took, and quickly fell into a rhythm. She mentally calculated what machines and exercises she would try out, once she got her blood flowing. She cocked her head slightly to view the other occupants of the small workout center.

Two men were competing playfully with one another while bench-pressing about a hundred pounds each. They were large; one with red crew-cut hair and a brawly appearance, while the other had black hair with red-dyed tips. Both had large builds, and although the black haired one had a slight belly, he clearly had enough muscle to keep up with the red head next to him. The two were wheezing insults at one another, while instructing the two boys spotting them to load on more weights.

One of the boys was a handsome blond whose white shirt was soaking with sweat. She thought that perhaps he had been working out on a machine earlier but had been called over to be a spotter. He stood over the redhead with a frustrated expression that amplified the welt on his cheek and bruise on his jaw. She could tell he'd rather get back to pumping iron rather than straddle the older man so that the bar would not fall on him. The black haired boy that had somewhat long hair looked as if he was really out of place in the mini gym. His stance in holding the bar was horrible: he wasn't watching his partner, his legs were locked, and his arms were close together. If the man he was spotting for weren't so large, she would have been more concerned.

She figured that those four would be preoccupied in that area of the gym, so she would be able to get involved with other machines in the room.

"Shawn, I know Bear is not the loveliest of the ladies, and certainly has some competition with that girl over there, but at least pretend you're paying attention to him!" Someone called.

Ari smirked, tossing her head slightly and straightening her posture even further. She heard a small apology, obviously embarrassed, which only inflated her sudden ego swell. More laughter from the two larger men sounded as she finished running her mile.

She slowed the treadmill to a stop, walking slightly as she bent over to pick up her water bottle. She took a couple sips, positioning herself nonchalantly so that she could discretely check out her male company. She pinpointed the most attractive of the lot, the blonde who had been working out earlier. She made a little appreciative note of his broad shoulders, and as she further analyzed his build, she wondered if he was a dancer. Even while he was slightly hunched over to have a grasp on the bar, she could tell he had brilliant posture that only people that were well-versed with moving their bodies could achieve.

She sauntered over to a machine that would allow for leg curls. She checked the weights, adding on 140 pounds, and then proceeded with her reps. Ari made slight grunts, having a good grip on the cushioned seat as she kicked the gears up. Soon she felt the familiar ache of a good workout beginning to stir in her calves, and began to pump harder. She finished with three sets of ten reps, pleased with herself. She flipped over, looking for wipes to rid the machine of her sweat for the next user. She found a squirt bottle hanging on the wall, and grabbed it, squirting and wiping down with her own towel.

"You see that, Big-Dude?" A voice sounded so close behind her so that she nearly jumped. "There _are _some teens with proper etiquette when it comes to equipment." She returned the cleaner, and then faced the two older men that had been doing reps earlier. They loomed over her, heavily built and somewhat stinky from their apparent sweat. From the reaction of blond, who muttered a disgruntled "whatever," she assumed that the large men were referring to him.

"Well, I'm impressed, Little Lady." The redheaded man grinned. "Are you here with family or - ?"

"A tour." She said simply. She did not know these men and was not about to give her whereabouts or the names of those she was involved with, no matter how friendly they appeared.

Their faces lit up. "Rosario Wilkinson?" The redhead asked. She blinked at the usage of her full name, but nodded. She realized that they were probably rangers, which gave sense to their large forms: they were perfect for the job. They both reached to shake her hand, firm with a slight jerk, introducing themselves as Bear and Jason. She smiled coolly, hiding her desire to nurse her arm socket. "We've been working with these two rascals here." He brought the two boys under his arms, neither happy to be near his sweat-stained pits. "Say hello to Shawn and Davion."

"Their names rhyme," The one with dyed hair pointed out.

The redhead grinned, then shook the two boys playfully. "Woah, going to have to put you two together, just for that coincidence!"

Shawn smiled weakly, clearly unhappy with his prospective roommate. Davion was a state of neutrality. He seemed to take it with a grain of salt. Jason then released the two, who couldn't get away fast enough. Davion went back to working out with dumbbells, and Ari had a feeling he picked purposefully larger ones. The other boy stood off to the side, eyes flickering between the occupants in the room. There was an apparent desire in him to show some testosterone in a room of grease and sweat. He teetered for a moment between leaving and getting set up on a machine, before one of the rangers waved him over to help clean the sweat off of the benches they had been working on.

A couple of other men entered the room, cueing Jason and Bear it was time to stop fooling around. They hurried Shawn out of the room, telling him if he wasn't planning on working out, he ought to stop getting in others' way. Shawn agreed to this quickly, wanting to get out of the foreign territory. Davion put away the dumbbells he had been working on, and then proceeded to work on the same leg machine Ari had earlier.

She gathered her water bottle, sweat towel, and room key, and then allowed for herself to pause for a moment. Davion was facing his back to her, and was moving rhythmically against the machine. His muscles clenched and convulsed beneath his work clothes, and she watched the wave of his body with pure appreciation. With a smirk, she spun on her feet and left the room.

Davion paused in his reps, as if thoughtful, and then cocked his head behind him, searching. He frowned before turning back to continue.

* * *

Auto stopped short in the doorway to her room. When she had left earlier to go scoping for others on the tour, her room was empty, save for her unpacked belongings. She had reintroduced herself to the two rangers that had picked her up from the airport, but kept her conversation short since the two smelled worse than a couple of grimer in the ides of summer. When she had asked about the other students, they informed her that they knew several girls had just left to get ice cream, a couple were down in the gym they had just come from, and some were out shopping before they visited their pokemon at the farm. There were a few whose whereabouts were unknown, and they were about to go track them down; they reminded her heavily that if she were to decide to go off somewhere, she required a buddy _and _needed to tell them of her departure in the first place.

She had thanked them, then returned to her room, only to find an array of disgusting floral luggage scattered about the room. She stood dumbly for a moment before realizing her roommate must have arrived without her noticing.

"Greetings and salutations!" She yelped in surprise; a girl had popped her head up from between the twin beds. "I am pleased to inform you that there are no looming spirits that wish us bodily harm." She held up a can of mangoes. "I have dispelled them."

Auto's smile was strained. "Y … yay...?"

The strange girl stood to full height, holding the fruit above her head while she brushed off her long skirt. She then paused and leaned forward to look at Auto, squinting her light brown eyes, and slightly smudging her drastic eyeliner. She then smiled widely. "Oh, you have a _green_ aura, we'll get along just nicely. No worries. But I'd look out for ghost types if I were you."

"What?" Auto stood in the crossroads of great interest, and wanting to hear more about her apparent 'green aura', but felt disgruntled at the girl's last warning. "Excuse me, my starter was a ghost type – what are you talking about?" Her thoughts swarmed around her beloved Bertha, a dusclops who was entirely too maternal and loving to be a worry.

The brunette roommate twirled one of two pink ribbons tied in her hair thoughtfully. "It's nothing specific, just know to be concerned. I wouldn't think of it as being anything deathly, though." She pouted her lips. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Of course not. The girl out of no where began spouting nonsense that put on the defense and had her entirely suspicious. She happened to adore her ghost pokemon, and did not care for the fact that this girl was insulting them as such. "Sure I do." She smiled as she seated herself on her bed. She crossed her legs. "Tell me more about my aura, I'm curious about that." She could only assume this girl was a psychic of some sort; she'd never met one, but had heard they were common in the Kanto region, perhaps where this girl was from,

The girl had lit up with excitement and knelt before her, teetering with her welcome. "I am ever so pleased to hear that – have a mango!" Somehow the girl had pried open the can so that the lid was hanging off, while the watery contents floated about at the rim. Auto had never been one to eat canned food, and was not about to start then.

"Thank you for the offer," she smiled sweetly. "But I'm not really hungry right now." The girl shrugged and popped the contents into her mouth. Auto averted her eyes as the girl licked her chaps with a satisfied smack.

"I can see you have things that are troubling you, I am receiving strong signals that you are." She announced. Auto's eyes widened. "I sense that the things you really want out of life sometimes seem unrealistic and you often wonder whether you can achieve them. I also sense that at times you are friendly, social, and outgoing to others, but that at other times you are withdrawn, reserved, and cautious. You take pride in being an independent thinker, but also know not to accept what you see and hear from others without proof. You like change and variety, but become restless if controlled by restrictions and routine. You want to share your innermost feelings with those closest to you, but have found it unwise to be too open and revealing. A man in your life with the initial "M" is exerting a strong influence over you right now and a woman who is born in … August will contact you in the next month with an exciting offer, While you appear disciplined and controlled on the outside, you tend to be concerned and worried on the inside, and at times you wonder whether or not you have made the right choice or decision."

Auto could feel her pixie-cut hair prickling. The girl was spot on. She had been wary earlier, but she had figured her out within five minutes of meeting her. The "M" man must have been her father, Marcus. Perhaps the woman with an exciting offer was related to that acting troupe she had tried out for several weeks back; weren't callbacks next month? Did that mean she got the part if it was an exciting offer? Her mind reeled at what was revealed about her future and current self, and at the fact that she felt rather dissected at the moment.

"Woah, you were, like, spot-on." She gasped. The girl swelled with pride. "How did you know all that?" She shook her head. "That was scary accurate."

"I'm a psychic, actually." The brunette told her proudly. "Not the mind-reading type, or the moving things with my mind type, that's more telekinesis. I just _know _things about people, pokemon, places. It's a gift, really."

"I wish I were a psychic." Auto murmured wistfully. "That was would be so cool! And I'd know about acting parts and whatnot …" She hinted at the fact that she was an actor, hoping the subject would deter to _her_ genius, rather than her roommate's. The brunette didn't catch on, or chose not to.

"Sorry, I think it's something you're born with. Perhaps if you were to get into an accident with a psychic pokemon, you're Inner powers could awaken. I wasn't born with my psychic ability, you know. It was _given _to me. By a goddess." She held out her palm, revealing a white crescent moon-shaped scar. "See that? That's the _Mark._"

If it weren't for its interesting shape, Auto would have figured it no different than any other scar she had seen. "That's _so _cool," she gushed. "Can I, can I touch it?" The girl nodded. She had half expected an electric current to be jolted into her when her hesitant fingertips lightly pressed onto the palm, but it was only cool and somewhat clammy. She pulled her hand away, a little disappointed, but still smiling. "Wish I had a scar like that."

"It's not a scar, it's the _Mark._"

"Right, mark." Auto corrected herself without conviction. "Oh, uh, what's you're name again?" She giggled apologetically. She knew the entire time the girl had yet to introduce herself, and had originally planned to act with indifference and wait for the girl to introduce herself, but Auto was never a patient person.

"I find that names are a trivial thing that binds us to unnecessary forms." She said mysteriously. Auto stared at her. "But if you _must _know, I was dubbed as _June_ by my mother."

"Oh, June, okay. I go by Auto."

"That's a weird name."

Auto sat back in a defensive stance. "It's a nickname. My actual name is Genesis."

"Like the Bible?"

Auto ruffled her black hair to hide her annoyance. "Yes, hence the desire for a nickname."

"Oh." June eyed her thoughtfully. "It's not a very good one, though. I'd rather one such as 'Solaris' or perhaps 'Alana' or something mystical like those ones."

Auto shrugged. "I like Auto."

"I like mangoes." June chucked the empty can at the trash bin by the large dresser in their room. It missed. Auto smirked slightly.

"I can tell."

"Hey, dudettes." They turned their heads to see Bear leaning in their room, using his knuckles to rap on their door to get their attention. His hair was wet and he was dressed in a loose black t-shirt with an unfamiliar band logo and baggy khakis. Auto assumed he had showered since she saw him last. "Dinner is going to be ready in a bit, so why don't you come along with me while I round up the others?"

Auto grinned and stood immediately. "Awesome, I'm starving!"

June got up next to her, smiling tentatively and unsurely. "I did offer some fruit…"

Auto made for the door, a little guilty, she said over her shoulder: "Yes, well, I only _just _realized I was hungry. I don't mind mangoes; I just wasn't hungry then, is all."

"Okay."

The two paraded after the ranger once he reminded them to lock their door. June lingered behind to do so, while Auto stuck close to the larger man's side. She welcomed the new company. And he _was_ kind of cute. Definitely looked strong, the way he towered over her. "Are there a lot of other students here?" She asked.

"Mm, I suppose so," he regarded her hair. "Pixie-Dude." She grinned at the nickname. "Not really sure what the number is off the top o' my head. Maybe twelve kids?" Her face dropped to neutral at the word 'kids'. She was not a child, she was an older teen, and would soon be eighteen. She was _not _to be treated as such. "No, I think the number's a bit more than that." He shrugged. "Doesn't really matter."

"It probably should if you plan on keeping track of us." She pointed out with a rue smile.

He almost stopped in his tracks at her comment, then turned to her and ruffled her head. "Whatever." She ruffled her hair once he retracted his hand. He behaved too familiar. It was weird. June trotted up to his other side, staring at him with the same concentration as she had at Auto earlier on. She caught Auto's eye, and mouthed 'yellow'. Auto nodded, mouthing 'oh' as if she were interested. Bear ignored their obvious form of communication and stepped ahead to knock on a door.

"Hey dudes, are you two in there?" There was a slight groan, and then some fumbling and heavy footsteps. The three crowded the door, waiting for the appearance of the two boys. The door creaked, revealing an extremely attractive boy. He looked at them lazily, and then opened the door wider.

"Ah, Pimp-Dude, where's your roomie?" Auto giggled at his nickname. 'Pimp-Dude' ignored her and jerked his thumb behind. June stood on the tips of her toes to peer over him. Bear tunneled through the two. He barked a laugh when he saw the dehydrated by collapsed on the bed.

"Oy, Dumb-Dude, have you been drinking any water?" There was no answer, so he leaned over and tapped him slightly. "Wake up, can't have you passing out." The large man turned to the three teens staring in the doorway. "Would one of you go get Big-Dude and let him know we need ice packs and some dehydration meds?" No one moved. "Come on, Pimp-Dude, I know you've met him – he's in room 324, go get him."

The blond nodded slowly, and spun on his heel, and strutted off at a fixed pace to the right. Auto and June watched after him with a fixed fascination.

"Hey!" Bear clapped his hands to get their attention. Auto jumped. "Pour some glasses from the bathroom, would you two? Preferably cold."

"Yes, Bear." Auto nodded and ran to the bathroom, June following. The two rummaged about for the customary glasses that were set out for guests. Four glasses were pulled out, and the two began to fill up the glasses hurriedly. "I hope he's alright." Auto murmured to June. "I mean, what do you think happened to him? He looks awful! Do you think he'll die or something, that'd be horrible!" She frowned and reached over to feel the water June had pouring from the facet. "Hey, did you make sure the water was fully cooled before you started pouring water? It has to be _cold._"

June paused to consider her previous actions, and then dumped out the water so she could refill them. Auto shook her head, aghast.

"You totally just wasted water, there. A magikarp just keeled over dead somewhere. I hope you're happy." June's eyes went wide as she gaped at her in horror. Auto took a vague amount of pleasure at the girl's apparent gullible state of mind. "Well, hurry up with the water, then." She took a glass in each hand and half ran out of the bathroom, quickly to Bear's side.

The boy on the bed had an extremely bad sunburn that was going to fade into an uncomplimentary farmer's tan. His face was puffy from his state of dehydration, and his cheeks were somewhat sunken. He licked his chapped lips at the sight of the water held out to him. He began to move one of his arms, but groaned in discomfort from his burns, so Bear took the drink from Auto and helped the teen drink.

"Is he okay?" Auto asked. The boy glowered at her. She flushed. Stupid question.

"He'll be fine, probably won't be joining us for dinner, though." Bear groaned. "Gonna have to have a ranger stay." The boy looked abashed. "Wonder how good this hotel's room service is."

Auto shrugged noncommittally. The boy finished with the first glass, and began to fall back to fully lie down again. Bear clicked his tongue and lightly gripped his shoulder. "Hey, you are going to drink the four glasses that have been prepared like a good gentle-dude, got it?" June sat down on the other side of Bear, holding the two glasses as if they were fragile pieces of art that were worth more than her life. Bear turned to June and took one of the glasses from her. "Thanks, Ribbon-Dude."

She smiled, then peered down at the burnt boy with a hazy expression. Auto guessed the girl was trying to do something 'psychic'.

"Bear," the three looked up to see Pimp-Dude had succeeded in his mission of finding Big-Dude. "Why are there fifty people in here?" Jason scowled at Bear who muttered something about little helpers. "Thank you," his attention was split between Auto, the blond, and June. "But we have it handled, kindly shimmy on downstairs, and we or maybe someone else will meet up with you guys to guide you to dinner." He then frowned. "And Davion," the blond rolled his eyes. "We're going to take better care of our fellow 'tourists', aren't we?" His face went stony, but he nodded nonetheless. He spun out the door, hands shoved in pockets.

"Feel better," Auto smiled at the sick boy.

"Yes, I am sure you will be fine come morning." June informed him pleasantly.

Auto hurried to catch up with the cute blond, June hot on her heels.

**I know have officially introduced all characters that have been PM'd to me. Dun dun dun!**

**Alright, so I think this will be the last time I'm accepting OCs. After this, it's all closed. But maybe I'll let some have cameos, I don't know, haven't decided. Just assume as such. Probably have more characters than I should, but I honestly cannot express just how much I LOVE receiving characters to work with. It's ridiculously fun.**

**If I had to choose, I would like one or two more rangers. I'll accept more students, though. Or even family members. **

**Hm, yes. And some fish roe while I'm at it.**

**June Wendall – Mouringshade**

**Rosario "Ari" Wilkinson – THUNDERSTORMkisses**

**Beau Wordsworth – RedxAlert**

**Genesis "Auto" Autumn – Eternity's Magician**

**Abigale-Levina "Gale" Derufina – Butterfly217**

**Aaaannnd I like love. Giving and receiving. Go forth and make sure you have at least eight proper hugs a day. Study shows it makes you healthier, since human beings are social creatures that thrive on contact. :)**


End file.
